What If
by Number One Fan of Journey
Summary: One decision can make all the difference in a Hunger Games. Just how much of a difference? Let's see... *Tie-in with the Brutal/Horrible series.
1. If Lovi Killed Spain

Author's Note: Well, here it is. The much-awaited major tie-in to the _Brutal/Horrible_ series. It's kind of a weird concept, so I'll try to make everything clear now.

1. If you have not read _Brutal _and _Horrible_, read those first. Even the chapter titles here are major spoilers, and you won't get all of the wonderful irony if you don't know what actually happened.

2. Here's the format: the first chapter of each situation will be titled "If (someone decided something differently)", and the author's note will say "Everything is the same until chapter (chapter number) of (story)."

3. Parts of the chapters will probably be the same as they were in the original. I'll repost it anyway so some characters don't just suddenly disappear. I'll also notify you which POV is the same.

4. The order of alternate endings does not correlate with the order of events in the story (the first one here is from _Horrible_; what do you expect?).

That should be about it, hopefully. I hope we can all enjoy this!

_Alternate Ending I: What if Lovi killed Spain?_

Everything is the same until chapter 41 of _Horrible_. The POV of Igris Kirkland here is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

"I can't understand a word you're saying!"

Amer pauses at my remark, taking a moment to chew his food.

"Sorry," he responds, voice muffled since his mouth still isn't completely clear of apple fragments.

I suppress a sigh. While it's certainly nice to see him acting less depressed, the cons are slowly starting to outweigh the pros. Now that he's being himself again, he's overenthusiastic, he's over-authoritative, his lack of intelligence is showing more and more, and between him and Fronce, I think I may end up the Hunger Games' first to be annoyed to death.

He seemed so tame and well-mannered at first, but I guess it must have just been fear. Tsk.

By no means am I going to boot him from the alliance, but I can't help regretting letting him in. Either he's hyperactive or he's horribly depressed. There's not really a middle ground with him.

Fronce is taking to him much, either. If I ask, he'll say he is, just to make a point of how much friendlier he is than me or something. But he and Amer are getting into about as many—not heated, granted—arguments as Amer and me.

We just don't click. Any of us. Fronce and Amer are pests to me, Fronce just enjoys not getting along with the both of us, and Amer doesn't seem to understand why we haven't instantly become a well-knit, getting-along, holding-hands-and-singing-kumbaya group with him as head.

But in whatever case, we survived the rainfall—the majority of our crater is flooded now, but there's still enough sand to seat the three of us—and, if not each other's presence, we're at least enjoying supper. A late supper, since we had to find some more firewood from the edge of the pine forest, but supper nonetheless. Amer has already determined he would rather eat Fronce's cooking than mine—I bet Fronce talked him into it—but I do offer him some tea.

If you could call it tea. Since I've long run out of what tea the sponsors had sent—something, of course, Fronce had to bug me about—I've resulted to sticking pine needles in a cup of water and boiling it. Admittedly not the best blend, but not much I can do about it.

Amer, making an attempt to be friends, accepts the offer. I hand over the cup, and he takes a hesitant sip. He immediately spits it back out, barely missing the cup.

"I am _not _drinking that," he splutters, wiping off his mouth. "That tastes horrible! Why are you trying to down it?"

I take the cup back from him and look down into the drink. "It's the closest thing to tea I can get here," I sigh, avoiding his surely-confused gaze. "And I can't remember where I saw this, but I'm pretty sure this stuff is a good source of Vitamin C."

Amer looks at me for a second, and then perks up. "Oh, joy!" he pipes, overenthusiastic to the point of sarcasm. "We won't get _scurvy_!"

I glare. "You _want _to get scurvy?"

Fronce laughs, pitching in, "I don't think we'll be in here long enough to get scurvy."

I narrow my eyes at the other blonde. "Go die, Fronce."

Amer immediately stops looked energetic and stares at me.

"…What?" I finally respond.

"How could you _say _something like that?" he asks, voice quieted by shock.

I meet his gaze confusedly for a moment before I can recall exactly what had offended him.

"Oh, that?" I respond, taking another sip of my brew. "Well… We say that kind of thing to each other all the time. It's kind of… lost all meaning."

Amer looks down for a minute. "Okay, just… don't say that around me, all right?"

"I'll try," I respond slowly, simultaneously relishing his quietness and regretting making him so dispirited. "It's kind of automatic, though…"

"Well, just… don't say it," Amer repeats, crossing his arms uncomfortably.

"Right."

**Lovi Vargas, District 3**

Am I really going to do this?

My hands waver unsteadily, making the hammer bob back and forth with them.

I look down at my sleeping ally. He's just lying comfortably on his side and snoring a little. Completely unsuspecting. It would be beyond easy to finish him off right now.

I shift my weight more toward my right foot and continue to stare down at his face.

I don't feel like I can really do this, but I _have _to. I saw the recaps. Two more are gone; we're in the final eight. I can't just keep letting Spain carrying me until he has to kill me himself.

Because I know he can. While I'm definitely not a weakling, at all, by any definition whatsoever, he got a training score of 10. He's older than everyone else here and stronger than most of them. He could easily take me out if I don't do this.

And I know he said he wouldn't, but... He's a _murderer_! He killed a person before, and I don't see why he wouldn't do it again! Every second I spend with him is just another second of putting my life in danger.

I take a shaky breath, standing squarely so the hammer is poised directly above his temple.

I have to do this. Like I said, it's the final eight already, things are starting to wrap up, and now might be my only chance. If I want to go home, I'll have to kill him one way or another, so why not now? He's asleep, he'll never know what hit him, and I'll never have to be scared of him anymore.

—Did I just say I was scared? Well, no, I'm not. I don't get scared. I never get scared of anything, and—

Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I'm scared out of my _mind _right now. I need to kill him, I have to kill him, but I can't do it! I just—I just —I just want to get out of here. I don't want to kill anyone. I definitely don't want to kill Spain, because he's protected me so far, and... I think he's the only person who's kind of... liked me.

People don't like putting up with me. I don't know why. They attempt to be friendly, but I just end up pushing them away. And now, when someone finally steps up to care about me, I try to _kill _him!

What am I doing, what am I _doing_? I can't kill him!

B-But I have to! I have to if I want to survive!

But if I kill him, he can't protect me from the Careers!

But if I don't kill him, he can kill me!

I don't want to die, I-I really don't want to die. And for me not to die, I have to do this! It's so simple...

Just—just—

Just do it.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I bring the hammer head down hard.

The cannon doesn't fire.

Panicking, I swing the weapon down a few more frantic times.

A cannon booms.

Shaking and still not daring to open my eyes, I stumble back, away from the body. I only get a few steps away before I collapse trembling onto the ground.

The hovercraft claw descends, and Spain disappears.

I try to take a deep breath, but can't keep it from becoming a shudder.

I-It's okay. He's gone. He can't hurt you now. And you have a weapon. You can survive this. You know you can—!

I lie down, getting in a solid hour of sobbing before I'm finally tired enough to nod off.


	2. Blindness

Author's Note: Ha, I should _not _be writing this... I really need to focus on my other stories...

Bah. It can wait until after this ending.

The POV of Ania Jerume is the same as it was in the original.

* * *

**Ania Jerume, District 1**

We've officially lost favour with the Capitol.

I say this not only because the rain soaked through half of our supplies and rendered them useless, but also because they thought it would be interesting right about now to send a load of boulders tumbling down toward us.

So we're forced to either flee, trying not to lose footing on the rain-covered mountainside, or do the even dumber thing on slippery ground: attempt to stop the boulders from crushing us with nothing but our bare hands.

Guess which option my ally chose.

Option number two, of course. Because he's _that _much of a genius.

And, since he'll obviously get trampled by the things if he only does it by himself, I have to help.

_Why _did he have to save me in training? Correction: why did _he _have to save me in training? I still owe him for that, so I can't let myself just go off now and leave him to die.

This is beyond annoying. Both the situation and my district partner. But there's not much I can do about it.

So here I am, _really _hoping the pairs of rocks I've wedged my feet between won't give, taking a smaller rock's impact with both forearms and sending it wobbling away to the side. Rome's beside me, stopping one of the heavier boulders with his palms—I am _not _going to tend to it if and when he breaks his wrists—and shoving it so hard it tumbles meters to his side before gravity wins and pulls it down the mountain.

I have to admit, all the muscle on him isn't just for show, as much as his antics may make them seem. That last boulder probably weighed more than me, and his arms didn't give the slightest bit when the rock rammed into him.

I wonder briefly is this is why he wanted to take on the oncoming boulders. To show the sponsors that, even though he hasn't scored a kill yet, he deserved his 10.

But it doesn't seem that likely that there's a method to his madness. It's much more likely that he's just showing off to show off.

Or he's trying to impress me. While I definitely can't say he didn't hit on me in the Training Center, he's been going overboard here. Of course, he usually spreads his flirtatious affections around to dozens of girls at once—and I have no idea how they don't seem to mind—and, right now, I'm the only one here. So I'm getting, what, ten, twenty times the normal dose? Yech.

The rocks continue to bombard us, but there seems to be more of a stream of them than everything coming at once. Maybe the Gamemakers decided this was too interesting to watch to just kill us in the middle of it.

Who knows? I'm just going to keep this up and hope our luck doesn't run out.

**Lovi Vargas, District 3**

"Hey, Lovi?"

I roll over onto my back before unclosing my eyes confusedly.

Spain is staring down at me.

Screaming instantly, I scramble to my feet, but Spain doesn't move. He just stands looking at me quizzically.

"You—You—You—You're dead!" I shriek, backing up against the crater wall, hammer shaking in my grasp.

"I know that." Spain follows me without moving his legs. Hurt shows in his eyes. "Why would you do that to me, Lovi?"

I'm hyperventilating too hard to answer. Frantically, I lunge for the crater ridge, scrabbling my feet over the side for a frenzied moment before tumbling over. Panting, I get back to my feet.

"I was only trying to help you."

I emit another short shriek when I see him right beside me.

"L-Leave me alone!" I cry, turning away from him and hurrying further up the rock face.

"Lovi—I really liked you," he starts again sadly, suddenly right above me.

"Go away! Go away, go away, go away!" I choke out between tears and fast breathing, changing course and climbing further. I only progress a few metres before he's suddenly there again.

"Why did you do it, Lovi?" he whispers as I freeze in terror.

Breathing too hard from the crying and the climbing, I can only respond with a strangled sound before madly hurrying up in the opposite direction.

"Why would you do that to me?" he continues, beside me once more. I rip my gaze away from him again and, gasping heavily for breath, climb further.

I go on for about half a minute, shooting down paranoid glances all the while, before I'm finally too winded to keep on. Sniffling and panting, I crumple back against the rocks.

"I cared about you," he begins again, his figure seated suddenly to my right. I struggle to pick my way toward the other side, but can't get far.

"I gave you my food, I helped you through all of this... And you _killed _me?" I'm unable to look away from the pained betrayal in his eyes.

"L-Leave me alone!" I wail through struggling breaths, shaking hard.

Spain doesn't heed my words; he only flickers to my other side. "How could you do something like that?" he mutters sadly. "Lovi, I thought you... I thought you were a good person."

"Leave me alone!" I tearfully command again, curling into a little ball.

"Why would you do that, Lovi?" Why?" he whispers.

"I-I said... I said, leave me _alone_!" I cry, flinging the hammer at the image in desperation. Spain disappears before the weapon can hit him, and the hammer collides with the rock face, sending out a flurry of stone chips.

I cry out in pain when one of them hits me in the eye.

Struggling for breath still, I put a hand to the injury to try and get the bit out, but the second I make contact, the sting forces me to let go.

Snivelling in pain as well as fear now, I shakily reclaim the hammer.

Then Spain appears again.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. Just the despairing, abandoned look he gives me is enough to make me turn the other way.

But the image moves along with the only eye that can see now. Despairingly, I swing the hammer at him again, but he doesn't move or disappear. He just keeps staring.

"Go away," my half-strangled voice repeats, with no results.

He's not going to go away. He's not going to leave me alone. He'll—He'll be there forever. Even if—Even if I end up blind in this eye, he'll still be right in front of my other one—

I stop. Slowly dragging my gaze to the hammer, I inhale shakily.

But if—But if I'm blind in both eyes, he'll have to leave me alone!

Unable to stand another second of his face, I launch the hammer's claw into my other eye.

Somehow finding the air to scream from the pain, I force the hammer back out, taking a glob of eyeball with it.

It hurts, it hurts, oh, _God, _it hurts.

But I can't see anymore. Spain is gone. Spain is gone...

After a few more choking breaths, I black out.

**Amer Jones, District 10**

I wake up to the sound of screaming.

On high alert before I can identify the tone, I look around frantically. Fronce, having been on watch, is also trying to locate the source, while Igris is just now stirring.

The screaming starts to alternate between shrieks, gasps, and half-incoherent speech before it suddenly tunes out to one long, final scream. Then the mountain is silent again.

"What just happened?" I find myself saying out loud, scurrying to the edge of the crater in my search.

"Something bad," Fronce replies with the obvious, following me. "But there wasn't a cannon..."

"What's going on?" grumbles Igris, rubbing an eye.

"We're trying to find ou—" I cut off, seeing a figure slumped over just ten metres or so beneath us. "Hey!" I start, pointing and exchanging a glance with Fronce. "Uh, found it." I take another look down squinting. "But who..."

"It was definitely a girl's scream," Fronce starts, peering down with me. "From the hair colour, I think it's the girl from 3."

"Yeah, I think so!" I agree, hopping up onto the crater wall.

"Well—don't just run down there!" Igris interrupts, getting to his feet quickly. "It could be a trap!"

I turn on him, a little peeved. "Does that look like a trap to you?"

"Traps aren't supposed to look like traps, Amer."

"Well! Whatever! I'm going down there, anyway. Hopefully you care enough about my life to back me up if it _is _somehow a trap."

Igris shakes his head but comes to sit on the wall beside me. "All right," he sighs, putting a hand on his rapier. "Go ahead."

I jump down.


	3. Welcome

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

Amer and I stand next to the girl. Gathering my breath, I watch as Amer kneels down and lightly puts a hand of her shoulder. She doesn't react. He rolls her over, face-up.

And immediately jumps back. Making a horrified choking sound, he stares, unable to wrench his gaze away from her face.

I, on the other hand, can't make myself look back at it. Just the glance I caught sight of is too much. One eye opened unnaturally, a piece of stone digging into it; the other eye completely drenched in blood and halfway gone; trails of half-blood, half-tears snaking down the side of her face...

"What happened to her?" Amer finally chokes out, descending abruptly into a seated position.

"I don't know," is all I can mutter.

Amer swallows audibly and leans over her trembling.

"Her hammer," he starts, motioning at the weapon tightly clasped in her hands. "There's blood on the end..." SLowly, with horror, he sits up and looks around. "Did she..." He turns to me. "Did she do this to herself?"

I drop my gaze. "I think so."

Amer looks back down at her for a few more moments. "Well... What are we doing, just staring at her?" he says finally, tucking his arm underneath her shoulder blades. Keeping my gaze away from her face, I hurry over to her legs, and together we pick her up.

It takes a minute to get her back up to our crater. We prop her up gently against the crater wall before pulling away.

"So," Igris starts, crossing his feet. "She's blind."

"Looks like it," Amer responds, still staring at the remains of her eyes.

"That's not very convenient."

I whip around to glare at the speaker. "What does that matter? This isn't some strategy! We're just trying to help an unfortunate girl!" I scowl at him. "And you were always talking about what a gentleman you were..."

"I _was _a gentleman," he responds, crossing his arms. "But in case you haven't noticed, there aren't any doors to open for anyone here! We're in the middle of the Hunger Games! _Past _the middle of it! Just not killing her is a huge act of chivalry!"

Trembling with anger, I take a few steps toward him. "So stepping into this arena means you can just throw out all humanity?" I cry, grabbing his shirt front, and forcing him close to my face. "What kind of person are you?" He pulls away, but I don't let go, using my other hand to point at Lovi. "You can't tell me you look at that and feel nothing!"

Igris rips himself from my grip and glares at me. "You're right for once—I can't!" he growls. I let my hand drop as he turns his face away. "But I have to be able to," he murmurs. "People who can't let go of humanity don't win the Hunger Games, Fronce." He looks back up at me, anger in his eyes that's not quite directed at me. "_And I want to live_!" He looks back down, rubbing his forehead miserably.

"So that's it." I keep looking at him until he looks back up at me wearily. "But you don't have to be that way," I start, putting my hands on his shoulders urgently. "Good people can get out of here alive! I've seen it happen!"

"Once?" he responds with a growl. "Yes, maybe. But you know what? The majority of the time, it's the pile of filth who wins! And you know what? I've already been picked against the odds! How in the world am I going to get through the rest of this against the odds? These things don't happen, Fronce! One measly exception is all it takes to deceive people into thinking it'll happen again. And it won't! It. Won't." He pulls himself back out of my grasp easily and paces toward the supplies.

I just stare after him silently, unable to do more.

It's a few minutes before he returns with some rations. "This is really going to strain our food supplies," he mutters, shaking his head but setting some food down by the rest of us anyway.

Amer, although he's surely as voracious as usual, doesn't immediately snap anything up; he's too busy carefully unwedging the rock shard from Lovi's left eye.

I go ahead and take my share, although I don't feel like eating right now. I choke it down, and by the time I'm done, Amer announces he's successfully removed the piece of rock.

"Good," I say halfheartedly, sure it is but unsure exactly how.

I suddenly notice Igris ripping up a parachute.

"What are you doing?" I ask warily. He doesn't respond, only continuing to work. He readies a long piece of cloth before slowly walking over to Lovi. Amer looks up at him suspiciously, but only watches as Igris wraps the cloth around our newest ally's eyes.

"What...?" Amer responds quietly.

Igris turns around. "I don't want to look at that," he responds simply.

I look over at Lovi's face, finally able to stand the image. "So..." I turn back toward Igris. "Does that mean you _do _want her to stay?"

Igris meets my gaze sombrely. "No. I am letting her stay around because you two want her here, and I don't want to be without allies." He turns his back to me. "That is my story, and I am not going to change it."

"All right."

A minute passes my saying this before my ears pick up a peculiar sound. Looking around quizzically, I can't quite pinpoint it until it grows louder.

Lovi is moaning.

Lovi is awake.

Amer seems to have realised this as well; he backs away to give her a little space as she stirs for the first time since we took her in. She just sits there moaning for a while before suddenly seeming to notice the cloth wrapped around her face. With a start, she puts hands to the blindfold at her ears.

"Don't take that off," Igris tells her.

Lovi immediately jumps in terror, having had no way to know she wasn't still alone until now.

"Wh-Who's there?" she starts, voice high-pitched. "Who... Who..."

"It's okay," Amer jumps in quickly, taking a step back toward her. "We're not going to hurt you."

"Wha... Wha..." She turns her head around frantically, despite her lack of vision.

"Relax," Amer says softly, gently resting his hand on her shoulder. She flinches in terror, but doesn't make any move to remove him. "We just wanna help, okay?"

"Wh-Wh-Why?" Lovi whispers, pulling her knees to her chest.

Amer and I exchange a glance.

"Because," I start slowly, "you look like you need some help." I scoot closer to her. "And what kind of people would we be to leave you there to die?"

Lovi's only response is tucking her chin behind her knees silently.

I guess I shouldn't expect more from her. I don't know what exactly happened, but it's obvious she's been seriously traumatised. I'm not going to force her to speak.

We sit in silence for a moment before Lovi suddenly jerks upright.

"Hey—what's wrong? Are you okay?" Amer starts, pulling his hand away.

Lovi starts shaking, gripping her knees tighter. "Wh-Where is he?" she says, voice high with panic.

"Where's who?" Amer responds confusedly.

"I hear him—I hear him!" Lovi cries, blood-tainted tears starting to run down her cheeks. "Why won't he leave me alone? Wh-Why... Why..." She collapses into herself sobbing.

Distraught, I put an arm over her shoulders carefully. She doesn't mind. "Calm down, Lovi," I start uncertainly. "No one can get to you here. You're safe..."

She starts shaking her head. "He's still there... He's still there," she whispers. "I killed him, and he's still there... I blinded myself and he's still there... He's still there... S-Still there..." She breaks back down into sobs.

I bring her a little closer to me, trying to comfort her somehow, while Amer looks down.

If all this is because she killed someone... Of all of us, Amer is the only one whose wounds are still fresh enough...

"Do you want to have a minute alone with her?" I ask him quietly.

He takes a second before looking up at me, and another moment before he nods.

I have to force myself away from her as she continues crying.


	4. The Battle

**Amer Jones, District 10**

Having finished saying everything she's wanted to say to me, Lovi leans against my arm sniffling quietly. I keep my arm over her shoulders just as silently.

"…didn't bother to keep any on me since I didn't think you'd do something stupid enough to injure your wrist."

I freeze at the sound of foreign voices, and Lovi stiffens as well.

"So you're going to make me climb all the way down with a broken wrist?"

"Yes! Consider it punishment for being idiotic enough to try to punch a boulder to bits!"

I register holding my breath as two figures become visible. My vision's still blurry without my glasses, but I only know one tribute with long, blonde hair. And only one tribute she would be yelling at.

The Careers are headed toward us.

I hesitantly withdraw my arm from Lovi, who in turn shifts her weight back to the wall fearfully.

"Where's my hammer?" she suddenly starts, feeling the ground around her in panic.

"Fronce took it," I respond, answer quickly. "We weren't sure what you were going to do when you woke up…"

I look over despairingly at the mountainside, where the Careers continue in our direction. Not wanting to for fear of the consequences but having to anyway, I slip on my glove.

Igris already has his rapier drawn, and Fronce is walking over with the hammer, not looking like he's planning on giving it back.

It's horrible to leave her defenceless, but… She's blind. What could she do with it, anyway?

Nothing. It's up to me to defend her. And I'll have to watch everyone else's backs, too. Fronce still doesn't have that great a weapon, and although Igris could easily win a foil fight, battling the broadswords of the Careers with that is like attacking a trunk with a toothpick.

So it's really up to me to protect them. I know I can do it. I may not be the strongest, but I don't care. They are not going to _hurt my friends_!

A chill grips me when I can suddenly feel it.

I'm about to lose it.

No. _No_. I am _not _letting this happen to me again. I am not going to become that—that _monster_.

But as the Careers ostensibly notice us and start coming down faster, I can't hear anything but the scream of my quickening pulse, and I can already feel my thoughts start to fade.

Stop it, stop it, stop it! I can protect them without going crazy. I don't have to let this overwhelm me…!

Trembling from the effort, I strain to keep my mindset as the insanity gathers at the edges of my consciousness, threatening to take over any second.

I vaguely perceive an odd sound as the Careers get closer. I pause for a second before I realise the sound is growling. And it's coming from _me_. It's not even a growl of frustration or something. It is, very accurately, a growl of something inhuman.

The association frightens me, but I'm too busy trying to maintain sanity to worry about some noise I'm making. So what if I sound like a rabid animal? As long as I keep my mind, I won't _be _a monster.

The Careers finally drop down just outside the crater and get up over the wall with their swords brandished.

It takes all of my will to keep from charging in madness. I manage not to, but I'm getting worse by the second. That cold feeling is still welling up, and I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.

And then Rome charges for me.

I just manage to bring my gloved hand up before he can stab me through the chest. But the armour is too weak, and it buckles beneath the blow, digging into my hand. Rome strikes again, and I can't move to block. His sword rips through my shoulder, and only luck keeps it from getting straight to my heart.

The immeasurable pain sends my brain into even more of an overdrive, and I suddenly realise I don't know where Ania went.

She can't hurt them! And neither can Rome!

But I can't… fight… like this…

And then I hear Igris scream in pain.

Just like that, the dam crumbles, and my thoughts are gone.

Now there's only instinct.

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

Rome and Ania attack my first two allies in unison. No blood is drawn on the first strike, but soon after just managing to parry Ania's swing, Igris receives a violent slash across his back.

I take a step toward him to help, but Amer flashes over there first, abandoning Rome and inadvertently Lovi.

I go toward her instead. Unable to make heads or tails of what's going on, she's just pressing herself against the crater wall shaking.

So naturally, she's Rome's perfect target.

After the moment he takes to register Amer's disappearance, he lunges toward Lovi, slashing toward her throat.

I interrupt him.

Unable to properly shield myself with the hammer, I end up with a sizeable wound through my stomach, but I don't let myself fall back. Holding my ground, I bring the hammer around toward Rome's temple. But before I can make contact, he slashes his sword through the side of my chest, rupturing my heart. He pulls back, and I fall.

My vision swims away quickly, and soon the throbbing pain is the only thing I can sense.

I failed to protect her. I failed to protect myself.

But… I still tried…

The pain finally fades out.

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

I'm too busy fending off Ania's attack to see the rest of the battle.

But I can very clearly hear when the cannon goes off.

The Career pauses to look, and Amer and I do the same.

At first, I think Lovi must have been killed, but I soon see the bloodstained corpse in front of her. _Fronce's _corpse.

Time seems to stop for a moment.

Fronce's… corpse? He… He's d-dead?

And then time starts up again, delivering a slice from Ania to my side. I wrench myself away from the image to face her, holding my rapier back up before the scene is interrupted by an inhuman shriek of rage.

I vaguely register Amer pouncing for Rome before Ania continues her onslaught. I have to block her strike with my rapier's handle. Luckily, it's sturdy enough to take several blows—otherwise I'd be defenceless by now. I jab back at her, getting a not-nearly-deep-enough hole in her stomach, before she swings again. I duck, and she stops the sword's momentum in time to block my next strike.

She swings again harshly, like she's trying to end this quickly, but her aiming at my neck makes it even easier to dodge. I get in a jab just below her rib cage, and she recoils enough for me to land another strike. Finally jumping back into the action, Ania raises her sword and brings it down onto my shoulder; I'm unable to dodge completely and get a wound to show for it.

And suddenly a cannon goes off.

Ania pauses, looking over my shoulder before altogether freezing. I take the opportunity to put my rapier tip to her eye before turning myself.

"A-Amer!" I call quickly, words almost catching in my throat from the horror of the sight before me.

Finally slowing his onslaught, Amer apparently hears me; he grinds to a stop and looks down. I can practically see the chill running down his spine from his realisation that he's trying to rip apart the blood-covered, exposed vertebrae of Rome's neck. The blood, muscle, and frayed vocal chords becoming too much for him, Amer staggers backward, hyperventilating.

Gritting my teeth, I turn my attention back to Ania.

"Go."

She flicks her eyes toward me.

"Go," I repeat, my arm not wavering with my voice. "The Careers have lost this battle. If you do not retreat, you will be killed."

Ania looks at me evenly for a moment before turning slowly and walking away.


	5. Sticks and Stones

Author's Note: The POV of Greis Karpusi is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

I shakily continue to unwrap the gauze we were sent moments ago.

We must be near out of money. Half of our wounds need actual suturing, but this is all we've got.

I get the gauze around my shoulder wound and struggle for a minute to get it wrapped around my back before Amer finally comes back to life for a moment and volunteers to help.

Although not quickly by any means, he manages to cover my wound well enough. I turn silently to patch up his.

By the time I've wrapped up the worst of his torso—he didn't seem all that injured the first time I glanced at him, but I guess no one could attack Rome twice without being dealt some serious damage—the blood has soaked the gauze enough I have to redress the slashes already.

Amer watches twitchily as the roll of supplies wanes. Before I finish with his worst wound—across his chest—he says, "Save some for Lovi."

I meet his gaze slowly. "Why?"

"Her eyes. They could use some gauze, right?"

I suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. "Oh, her eyes! Her _eyes_! Because she didn't get so much as a scratch in that battle, huh?" I vaguely notice my teeth starting to grind together. "Because she's so vulnerable and _useless _we just _have _to kill ourselves for her!" Trembling with the rush of rage, I step over to where Lovi is sitting. "I don't know why I ever bothered to let you into this alliance, you—" I clench my fist around her shirt collar— "you useless, parasitic pile of flesh! It's your fault he died!" I continue, voice by now rising to a scream. "Fronce never would have done something that stupid if you—you bloody little cretin—didn't lull him into it! Now he's _dead_, and it's all because of _you_—!"

"Back off!"

Amer furiously pries my hand away from the now-weeping Lovi and glares. "It is _not _her fault! Leave her alone!"

"Don't push me like that!" I scream, shoving him back away from me. I turn seething at the mess of a thing still crying at my feet. "You—get out of here! No one wants you!"

Before I can heave her to her feet to comply, my arm is suddenly seized and wrenched around behind me, making me yelp in pain.

"Calm down," Amer breathes from behind me. I squirm madly to escape his grasp, but only end up twisting my shoulder further.

"You have every reason to be upset right now," he continues, "but there's no reason to lash out at other people like that!"

I laugh before screaming back. "Lash out? You think _I'm _lashing out? _I'm _not the one who _murders _people when his friends get killed!"

Amer lets go of me with a pained sound.

Still shaking and too close to tears for my liking, I stretch my shoulder out a little before bothering to turn back around.

Amer, his back to me, puts his arms under the other person in the crater and starts to lift her gently.

"Come on, Lovi," he mutters, voice breaking. "We're leaving."

He stumbles away without another word.

**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

"Ah-_choo_!"

I curse silently, sniffling not quite so quietly. Of all places to catch a stupid cold!

I guess I _was _out in the pouring rain without shelter for a few hours, but just getting wet doesn't cause colds, does it?

"Ah-choo!"

Well, one way or the other, I have a cold now. And it really, really sucks to be sneezing this loudly, despite trying to muffle it with my shirtsleeve, when my whole strategy is avoiding detection.

So I'm in a bit of a quandary. I need rest to make this go away, but it's too late in the Games for me to be anything but alert. It would probably take several days to recoup, anyway, and who knows if the Games will even last that long?

So I guess I'll still stay awake for the most part. It's not like I can rest and stay well-hydrated—the only available water anymore is collected on the stones, and there's no way I could curl up and sleep over there.

So, I'll have to keep staying awake. I'm still not quite used to it. I spent most of my days at school as nap time, and, so far, most of the days here. But I've been more awake as the Games have continued, and, even though I need the sleep abruptly more now, I'm going to have to keep it up.

Ugh. I'd better not let myself nod off now. Although it's usually a conscious decision, I've never really had to fight the urge before, so this is going to be tricky.

"Ah-choo!"

And that part definitely doesn't help.

**Lovi Vargas, District 3**

What _happened_?

I-I don't know. I couldn't see anything. Just smelling blood and hearing metal clashing and people screaming doesn't tell me much of anything.

But-But apparently Fronce is dead. It sounded like he-he threw himself in front of me and got killed.

Why would he do that? He was such a nice person... He didn't deserve to die... And for _me_? I'm only this way because I-I'm a murderer... A cowardly, snivelling, little murderer...

Why is anyone helping me? They know what happened. Out of—out of all of them, Igris is the only one who treats me like I should be treated.

But I don't like it. I don't like it at all. I deserve everyone in the world screaming at me, but I don't like it!

I try not to flinch as my foot bumps into another rock.

I think Amer must have gotten hurt really badly, too. He still reeks of blood, he's breathing hard, and he's stumbling around like he's really dizzy. But he still... He still wants to get me somewhere safe...

Suddenly, I'm off his shoulders and sitting on a rock. I still hear him heaving for breath beside me. And then I'm lifted again, and set back down on something prickly but cushiony.

I can just hear Amer collapsing by my side.

"A-Amer?" I start timidly, reaching over and putting a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

He doesn't say anything.

"Amer?" I repeat, voise rising in pitch. Still nothing.

Shaking madly, I fumble my way along his arm until I find his wrist. Clasping hard, I get relief when I feel his pulse.

So he just... He just passed out, then. He's s-still okay.

And if he's okay, I'm okay.

**Ania Jerume, District 1**

I'm reorganising my supplies in the meadow crater when the anthem starts up. Although I know who's there, I look up anyway.

Rome, of course, is first in the sky.

So. He's dead. There's the proof.

I don't particularly like the fact he's been killed—especially in such a way that makes even a trained killer like me flinch—but I'm glad he's gone. I honestly don't think he was bringing anything to the alliance anymore. Certainly, a lot of Capitol girls send him money for his looks, but once the price got oh-so-high, they must have backed out.

And he _definitely _wasn't bringing anything else. More strength in numbers, maybe? That's all I can think of.

And now I don't have to worry about him. Don't have to worry about splitting up the food for the two of us, don't have to worry about getting him a wrist brace, and—best of all—don't have to worry about him hitting on me. Am I _glad _of that.

It's not all happiness and rainbows, though. I'll have to change my hunting to more stealth, since I may not be able to attack a large alliance successfully. I'll have to stay up a lot more, since there won't be anyone to take another shift. And...

And I'll never be able to repay him.

I guess... I guess I could have jumped in when that 10 leapt for him... But Rome isn't _that _much taller than me; I would have gotten my neck punctured as much as he did. And to die at the hands of the psycho there? Not planning on it.

I mean, it's not like he really risked his _life _for me. Just his health. So it would be more than repaying if I were to die for him.

So, not paying him back at all is better than that?

I... I couldn't really say.

But that's what happened. I can't drive myself crazy thinking about it too much. It's not like I'll be able to change anything.

The anthem dies out, and I settle down to sleep.


	6. No Turning Back

Author's Note: Hehe, sorry for the slow update. Kind of lost the Internet for a while, and I have all of my stuff saved on here... Yeeeeeeeah...

Well, here's the next chapter. A little on the short side, but I can't cram the next POV in here, so there. Enjoy anyway.

* * *

**Lovi Vargas, District 3**

I think night has fallen.

I don't really know, though. It's gotten a little colder, so I feel like the sun must be down. Or maybe it just got colder for a while.

I can't tell. It's not like I can just look up at the sky and see if the sun's still there. Not anymore.

I don't like being blind. I-I'm glad I can't see S... S... _his _betrayed face anymore, but... It's not worth it at all. There's nothing familiar about this place. I can't just feel my way around, or I might stumble into someone. It's not like I can tell what's going on from smells, and my hearing's not as good as I thought it was supposed to be when you go blind. I'm completely vulnerable to everything this place has to throw at me.

I don't know why I did something that stupid. I just... I just wanted him to go away, I guess.

But it didn't work. I can still hear his voice sometimes. I could try to shove something hard into my ears, to make myself deaf, but then what? I never noticed him having a smell, but I bet I would be able to catch it now. And maybe I could still feel him, helping me over obstacles, giving me things... And it's not like I could just rip off all my skin. No matter how hard I try, he's never really going to go away.

If only I had realised that before I did this to myself...

So now, here I am, blind, scared, trembling, what remains of my eyes still in pain, no way to defend myself or even know if I have to defend myself.

Except for Amer.

...If he wakes up.

Once again, I don't know exactly how long it's been since he passed out next to me. But it's been too long. His wrist is still throbbing under my tightly-clasped fingers, and that's all I have to go by.

I really hope he wakes up soon. I can't do this alone. I couldn't before, and there's no way I can now. He's the only hope I have of not dying.

Shaking, I shift my fingers around his wrist and hope with all my heart that the throbbing won't fade away.

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

Stifling a yawn, I shuffle through my supplies for breakfast.

It's going to be a long day. It's already been a long night—I only let myself get about two hours of sleep, seeing as I'm the only one left to watch out for Careers—and it's not going to get any better.

I pull out some of the dried meat strips and a piece of cheese. Now that I don't have to share, I can make my rations a bit larger. That's a positive.

There aren't many others, though.

The corners of my eyes still start to prickle when I think of Fronce sliced up and dead. Even when everything else about my life was ripped away from he, he was still there. The last remnant of my former life—and now gone, just like that. I never thought I'd think this in my life, but I'd love to turn around and see him ready to pester me again.

But that's not going to happen. I know it's not, but apparently I'm still hoping—I feel disappointment whenever I look for him on a whim.

So I may as well get it out of my head. Right now. There's no time for mourning, and no time for hope or disappointment. The only thing important in this place is survival.

And I can still accomplish that. I may be all on my own now, but... Loners can win the Games. I mean, it hasn't happened in a... a few years, but it's possible. I'll be missing out on sleep and a way to pass the time, but I-I haven't lost anything important. I couldn't keep them if I had them, anyway. Everyone else has to die for me to get out of here alive.

So really I'm only convenienced by all of this. I-I don't have to worry about any of them distracting me anymore, and I certainly don't have to worry about getting annoyed by those two.

Yes, everything's fine. So what if I'm all alone? I'm practically always by myself at home, so I—I'm used to it! There's not that much time left in the Games, anyway, so... Yes! I'm fine!

My breakfast disappears quite quickly, and I'm left to stare at the bloodstained sand by my feet.

That was... That was pretty violent stuff back there, huh? All these people chopped up and torn open... And then Rome... The image of his neck pulverised and maimed, strings of tissue lying limply and lifelessly all around... Even just in my mind's eye, it makes me shudder.

And... You know what? Amer did that. By-by getting rid of him, I don't—I don't have to worry about that happening to me. Right!

With a sigh, I drag my fingers through the grains.

I know that's not what I was aiming for. I don't know what I was trying to accomplish by flying off the handle like that. Did I really say that kind of thing to him? That must have hurt him so much... To make him get up and leave, even with his wounds...

Well, there's-there's no turning back now. I've said what I've said. And he—_he's _the one who stormed off before I could apologise. Although... Although I should, anyway...

No! Stop thinking like that! You're trying to be human again. Don't. You know what happens. Humans don't survive this. And I want to survive, don't I? I can't let this get to me. Just—Just stop worrying about him. I never really needed him. I just let him in the alliance because I... because I felt like it.

_You let him in because you wanted a stronger alliance._

Well, the alliance is gone, anyway. I'm plenty strong enough on my own. There's only one Career left, anyway. I took her on once and I could do it again!

_You took her on with Amer's help._

Well, she's injured now.

_So are you._

Well—I can beat her, anyway! I just have to try a little harder. That's all. I'm perfectly capable of taking her and the rest of the Games on by myself.

_Quit lying to yourself. You need him._

So maybe I do! What's it matter whether I need him or not? He's gone. There's nothing I can—

_You could try to bring him back._

That's worthless. I don't remember which direction he went. And he doesn't want me back, anyway! He stormed off of his own accord, and—!

_You pushed him away._

"Shut up, you!"

The words linger in the air a moment before I realise I just screamed at myself.

This is what happens to people who care. I am not supposed to be one of those people. I just need to... I just need to stop. I just need to stop trying to be human before I go stark mad.

So... So... What needs to be done right now?

_You need to go back and find Amer._

No, I don't. I am completely fine by myself, and if he wants to go off on his own and-and get killed...

I'm back to arguing with myself...

I rub my forehead, wincing at the pain triggered in my shoulder.

I don't know. Just... Whatever. He's run off, I'm all alone, who cares.

Just... Just keep going.


	7. Help

**Amer Jones, District 10**

Sun filtering through my eyelids, I slowly regain consciousness.

And start to really wish I hadn't.

This isn't sore. The day after playing a double-header of school baseball is sore. This is... I don't even know what this is. Maybe something like the day after fifty games in a row, with a bunch of burning cuts crisscrossing my trunk thrown in. Not sure there's a word for this other than "ow".

Needless to say, the minute my vocal cords wake up, I'm groaning.

And something start shaking my arm.

Perceiving for the first time something wrapped around my wrist, I begrudgingly open my eyes and look over.

Lovi, hands clasped around my wrist almost enough to cut off circulation, trembles, mouth slightly open. "A-Amer?" she starts nervously.

"Wha?" comes my tired response.

Lovi immediately draws in breath and puts her face in my chest and her arms around me.

"You're okay!" she croaks, seconds away from sobbing.

While her response felt enough like an assault to make my nerve endings feel otherwise, I get out a breathless "yeah".

"I-I was so worried," she continues, tears of relief in her voice. "I thought you weren't going to wake up, a-and I-I..." She trails off into sniffles for a while before tilting her head up. "P-Please don't die, Amer," she whispers.

"Don't worry," I respond, trying hard to keep the pain out of my voice. "I'm not planning on leaving this world for a while yet."

She clings to me for a few more minutes before finally calming down enough to pull herself away for the most part. One hand continues to rest on my forearm to let her know I'm still here.

I shuffle around a little until I'm sitting up against the rock wall. "How long have I been out?" I mumble.

"I don't know," Lovi responds quietly. "Sorry..." She scratches her face under the makeshift blindfold.

"Is that uncomfortable?" I respond, wondering if I've missed her doing that a few times.

"A little," she admits, putting her hand back down.

I look at the cloth for a second. It's freshly soaked from her newest wave of tears, and the reddish colour of old blood fades into a brighter crimson further toward where her eyes are.

"Well, I'm not going to make you stew in your own juices," I announce, slowly leaning over. It makes me wince, but I'm able to get one hand around the cloth—my other shoulder won't let me rotate my arm upward—and I gently work my way around loosening it from her flesh. She cringes a little when I get to the portion around her eyes but doesn't complain.

I pull the cloth away over her head.

Lovi exhales a faint sigh of relief, rubbing some of the sweat from a spot near her temple.

I smile at her for a moment before realising she can't see me.

We sit in silence for a few minutes before I start to notice how dry my throat has gotten.

"I don't guess the sponsors sent us any water?" I start.

Lovi shakes her head. "I didn't hear anything."

"Okay. Well," I continue, already cringing at the thought of getting up, "there's a lot laying around, so I'll just, uh, go find some."

Although I guess I didn't actually tell her what I was planning, Lovi nods. She's probably thirsty, too, come to think of it. I'd better get a lot.

Inhaling, I prop my hand on the ground and start to push myself up. I just get my weight off my butt before a jolt of pain flashes down my midline. I grit my teeth but can't quite keep myself from grunting in pain.

Luckily, Lovi doesn't seem to think all that much of it, so I brace myself and keep going. Shuffling my hand around and quietly telling Lovi to let go for a minute, I twist myself around to face the wall. Slowly I shift my weight from my hands to my feet. My leg muscles can't take the weight, though, and I end up teetering and crashing skull-first into the wall. Although I didn't take any injury to my head before, it still hurts enough to make me swear louder than I'd like.

"What happened?" my ally gasps, wildly waving her arms around until she locates my ankle. "Are you okay?"

Cursing myself for triggering her paranoia, I assure her that everything's fine.

Except it's kind of not. There's no way I'm getting over this wall for water, and seeing as I apparently ended up in the pine forest crater, I don't think I'm going to be very lucky in finding food, either. I still have a weapon, but I'm not going to be doing any fighting. Lovi wouldn't be a competitor even if she still had her hammer, which I think must have been taken up in the hovercraft with Fronce.

I cringe thinking about him and what happened before forcing myself to put it aside for now. Nothing I can do about it. I can give him and... and... my other fallen allies a proper memorial later.

Of course, I'm not exactly sure what else I could be doing now...

_Fwip!_

I blink, snapped out of my thoughts, while Lovi cocks her head to the side. I try to locate the source of the noise, and soon enough I see the parachute laden with a tiny covered basket. The thing continues to descend until it's just centimetres from my foot.

"What is it?" Lovi whispers, still not sure we aren't under attack.

"Donation," I respond excitedly. Leaning over and cringing when it feels like one of my wounds starts to reopen, I stretch my arm out and pull the loot in. I do my best to ignore the pain as more blood starts to blossom through the gauze.

Controlling my breath carefully, I pull the cloth off the top of the basket. There's not much—I was expecting that, since the basket was so small—just an orange and a small canteen.

I let Lovi sip at the water first as I start to unpeel the orange. The sharp, fresh scent summons the little water remaining in my body to my mouth, and I whittle away faster. Exposing the fruit inside, I start to rip it into sections, reserving three slices for my ally. She sets the canteen down quietly.

"Here's some food," I announce awkwardly before taking her hand and placing the ration in it. She starts eating immediately.

I take a swig of water first, and before I'm done, Lovi's already finished with the orange. She now dabs at her fingers with her tongue, trying to get any tiny remnants left behind.

I hungrily glance at my part of the fruit before slowly taking another piece away.

"Here," I say, putting it into her hand. "One more can't hurt."

She holds the slice to her mouth joyously, then pauses. Turning her head a bit, she quietly says, "Thank you."

No problem." I turn back to my own share. It takes every ounce of my willpower to eat it slowly—_forget_ about saving any for later.

"Amer?"

I turn back toward Lovi. "Yeah?"

She casts her nonexistent gaze down. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

I can't really answer at first. I mean, she's pitiable, but she knows _I_ know she's a murderer. And… Well, it's pretty obvious I don't like murderers.

But why don't I? For all of the lives they destroy, all of the people that have to go on broken and empty.

And no one can look at Lovi and say she's not exactly that.

So she's both the oppressor and the oppressed. They just kinda cancel out.

"I guess…" I finally start. "I guess everyone deserves for somebody to be nice to them."

Lovi contemplates this silently while I put the lid back on our canteen and lean back to rest.


	8. Conscience

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

It's noon, and no cannons have fired today. I haven't heard any loud arguments or screams, so I'm guessing nothing dramatic is happening. The audience is going to be getting bored.

I guess I should be more concerned. But I haven't been able to feel much of late. Haven't wanted to. It's gotten to the point I just start blocking out my thoughts before they inevitably stray toward the people I've lost one way or the other. It seems like a worthwhile sacrifice for now.

I fold up the remains of my lunch and gaze around the crater. I look straight over the blood on the sand and find my eyes resting on the wall.

And I swear I see something duck under the edge.

Blinking, as if the action would change what I see now, I carefully stand, gripping my rapier handle. I try to recall what colour the thing was, but I must not have had time to register it. Hopefully it was just an animal.

...Well, considering the "animals" they put in this place, maybe that's not the best hope after all.

I step toward the spot slowly, keeping an eye out for the adjacent spots. Nothing jumps out as I progress, but I hold my breath to keep things silent. I get about a foot from the wall before I can see what's hiding. It takes me a minute to recognise it as the tip of a tribute's shoe.

And then something jumps out at me.

With an exclamation, I withdraw my rapier but still get a slash too near my jugular for my liking. I stumble back, biting my lip in an attempt to stifle the pain, and see Ania pull back her sword.

I should have been expecting her! She knew where I was—why _wouldn't _she come back for me? Why did I stay here—idiot! I let all of these—these stupid happenings occupy my mind instead of survival!

Ania strikes again, and I block with my handle, but the impact knocks me back a bit. I take another step back to ready my weapon, but Ania's sword follows me. I get a shallow cut across the width of my arm before I can jab at her. She dodges just enough to get a puncture in her upper left shoulder and slashes her sword again.

I dodge backward, forcing my feet not to slip in the sand. Ania pounces after me, driving her blade through my other shoulder before I can register the attack. I retaliate with a jab to her stomach, but it still doesn't delve deep enough to make her draw back. She still flinches, and I have just enough time to withdraw my sword before she attacks again. She swipes for my chest, but I deflect it enough to sustain little more than cut-myself-cooking sort of wound.

I'm unable to move my rapier away from its defensive position to get an attack in before she continues her onslaught. She aims for my neck, and I step back, getting a score across my chin. I jab at her ribs, but she dodges enough to get a thin tunnel ripped into her side. She draws back the lightest bit, but I'm already too worn to strike again quickly. She slashes again, and I retreat a few steps, trying to stop gasping for breath. It doesn't work.

This isn't going well. She won't let me get anything close to a fatal hit, and even when she misses, her sword lets her inflict some pain. I'm already sliced up enough.

Not that she isn't. She got her share of cuts from the last battle, too. Most of the outstanding ones are Amer's doing.

But I'm going to win here on my own. I have to.

Somehow.

I know I don't have the physical advantage. Ania has trained for this. I don't even have the strength of a hardworking district kid. Fitnesswise, I'm just a Capitol kid. I can't hope to win a fair brawl with her. I've been hoping to get lucky enough, but I don't think that will work.

Ania takes a large step after me, using the momentum to bring her sword forward more powerfully. The blade drives itself into my stomach, splintering against the wound already there. I stagger back, a foot splashing into the tide before I correct myself.

The water... It's salt, isn't it?

Not having much time to think over my plan, I jab back at Ania and end up getting a pretty good wound just below her neck. She follows up with a strik of her own, though, her blade cutting into my side before I take a few more steps back. I almost slip on the moist sand, but manage not to. Ania follows me, a little less used to the sand but not getting tripped up enough. She attacks again, and I block with my rapier handle. I hurry to take a few more steps back. Undeterred, Ania continues after me.

Her foot finds a patch of unstable sand at last, and she starts to tilt away from the sand.

Before she can readjust, I lash out, kicking her feet from under her as best I can. She just keeps herself from falling, so, with a battle cry, I launch my full weight at her, knocking her into the water portion of the crater.

She gives a start at the initial slap of the waves as I try to keep myself from faceplanting right after her. I fall, but catch myself on my hands and struggle to get up quickly. Ania has gotten back on her feet from falling on her rear, but, unlike me, she now has water up to her ankles. Before she can attack—and before I can catch my breath at all—I charge her again, and she finally topples over backwards, body fully into the water. The shock of the salt water attacking her wounds is enough to make her spasm and drop her sword. I think to kick it away, but don't think I could do it quickly enough in my condition. But I do wade into the water—the slope is steeper than I thought—and plant a foot on Ania's stomach.

Now every part of my foe but the tips of her toes is underwater. She can't quite seem to shake me off; although she's wrapped her hands around my ankle, all she does is watch a cluster of bubbles float away from her mouth.

I just stare down at her panting.

I win.

_Now let her go._

I register the thought but keep looking at Ania dumbly.

_Get your foot off of her! She'll drown!_

...But isn't that a good thing?

_You are about to murder a human being! Move!_

My breathing rate back to shaking inhalations, I look at her strained face. She's really going to die if I just stand here. A deep chill navigates through my body, and I find myself sliding my foot away.

"Ah!" I stop myself, putting my foot back on the centre of her stomach. Yes, she'll die. But she's... She's supposed to die... Everybody but me is supposed to die...

The cold feeling doesn't vanish at all by the time the cannon fires.

I still look at her... her corpse... disbelievingly. She's dead.

_Of course she is. You just murdered her._

"I've had enough of you..." I mutter, shakily turning and walking across the shore. "...Talking to me... Stop it. I don't want to go mad."

_I thought you didn't want to kill people, either._

"Shut up." I get to a clean patch of sand and lie down. The ground immediately starts to turn red. I stare at it wonderingly before I start to realise just how much damage I've taken. A lot of wounds today... Everything from yesterday, half of them reopened...

The ground keeps getting redder, and my vision of the sand blurs as my head pounds.

Just how much blood have I lost? Too much, for certain...

The red splotch continues to spread, and my vision starts to darken.

Have I lost enough...

My breathing echoing in my ears, I start to close my eyes.

...To die?

I black out.


	9. One By One

**Lovi Vargas, District 3**

When I hear the anthem start up, I don't face the sky, but I think Amer does. I hear him shift, his clothing rustling against the crater wall but not against the layer of foliage underneath.

"Huh."

I give him what I think is a quizzical look. "What is it?"

He turns to face me—I feel his breath on my face—before replying. "Ania's gone."

"Ah?" I respond carefully, trying not to let my nonrecognition of the name show in my voice.

Amer apparently notices anyway.

"She was the Career from 1," he clarifies.

I nod slowly, not knowing the districts any better than the names.

I stop feeling Amer's breath on my face as he continues with exasperation. "The one with the long h—!" He cuts off suddenly, the rest of his breath for the sentence leaving him as a wheeze.

"Amer?" I shake his arm, but he doesn't respond. "Amer, what..."

"No," he interrupts blankly. "No, no, no." His arm slips out of my grasp as he gets to his feet.

Suddenly left in a sea of complete blackness, I frantically wave my hand around until I find his ankle.

"What? Is someone here?"

"N-No. No one's here," he croaks, a shiver travelling down him. I keep my face trained on him, but he doesn't say anything else.

The anthem blasts its final phrase and dies away, leaving us in silence other than Amer's quick breathing.

What's going on? If no one's here... Is he just in pain? No, that can't be right... Well, we were watching the death count, weren't we?

The pieces finally click. Igris was up there.

I try to feel bad about it, but I can't. He was so cruel, and I'm honestly really glad he's not around.

But I can feel bad about it for Amer. They were friends, weren't they? Well, they didn't act like it when I was there, but Amer made it sound like it when he was talking with me.

I shuffle a little closer to Amer and nervously totter onto my feet. It takes a few attempts, but I eventually clasp my hands around his right hand.

Something shuffles—I think he turns his head—and I shift my weight from foot to foot.

"Why did I leave?" he finally whispers. Before I can come up with a response, he continues. "Why did I force him to fend for himself? He must have—he must have been fighting with Ania, right? W-We could have won if I was just there to help him—God, it's all my fault!" he wails, voice cracking.

I squeeze his hand a little tighter, but I don't think it's any comfort to him. "A-After..." I start uncertainly. I cast my black vision downward. "A-After what he said to you... I don't know why you would stay." I turn my head back and try to face him. "I would have left, too."

His breathing rate has gone down, but it's shaky from what must be his crying.

"...Yeah?" he finally responds a minute later.

I nod fervently.

He doesn't have anything else to say.

**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

Looks like I've made it to the final three. After a moment of thinking, I determine the others left are Lovi from District 3 and Amer from District 10. For Lovi to have survived this long, she's either a conniving genius, or she's being carried around on someone else's back. And then Amer. I could see him getting this far. He didn't get an overly-impressive training score, but he's pretty sturdy.

So these are the people left to defeat. Lovi should be easy; either her helper is dead, or he's Amer and still with her. Amer could pose more of a challenge, but I'll make sure it's nothing I can't handle.

Huh. Seems weird to be so far along here. That I've been in the arena so long and hardly suffered at all.

Well, one way or another, it's going to change soon. Amer or Lovi isn't likely to come for me, unless one of them just snapped. That's entirely possible, so I can't exclude it—but if that's not the case, I'll have to hunt them down.

But that can wait. I don't want to be too hasty. When the Capitol wants me to go after them, they can come get me.

I just get resettled in the tree's branches when something bright green pops its head up over the crater wall.

...Well. That didn't last long.

The mutt hops over the wall cheerfully and comes bounding toward the centre of the crater. I sit up, holding my weapon although I seriously doubt the mutt would inflict any serious damage just to get me going.

As I suspected, it doesn't even attack; it just sits perched below the tree swinging its drill-shaped tail back and forth like an excited puppy.

"So," I start, putting my legs closer to the ground in preparation of landing, "where am I going?"

* * *

Although I'm guessing enough time has passed, the sun hasn't budged a centimetre. The Gamemakers must want this showdown to be well-lit. Maybe it's the last one. That would make sense. The two must be together.

I keep after the mutt, which has yet to hurt me at all, and pull up short when it comes to a stop in front of me. It turns around to look me over with its shiny, beady eyes as I see what's behind it. The pine forest crater. The shelter of the remaining tributes.

I stride forward slowly, gripping my weapon's handle tight. I choose my steps carefully so no rocks crunch underfoot, and I hold my breath when I finally peek over the ridge.

And find Amer looking right at me.

I cringe inwardly, cursing the failure of my stealth plan.

Although I guess the Capitol wouldn't want to see that, anyway. Just sneak in and slash both of their necks before they know what's going on. Not entertaining enough apparently.

While Amer is still registering my appearance, I pull myself into the crater, where I find Lovi getting to her feet wide-eyed.

No-eyed, more like it. I don't know what happened to her, but it's good for me. She's much less of a threat on her own without sight.

Amer has finally gotten over the shock of my sudden appearance, and he pulls a bloodstained, armoured glove over one hand with his equally-bloodied other hand. He doesn't make any move to attack, though.

I look over the two carefully, recalling what I learnt about them from the Training Centre, before finally speaking.

"So," I say casually, "how many people have you two killed?"

Lovi makes a sound like she's about to start crying, and she suddenly clasps her hands over her ears although there's nothing more to listen to. Amer cringes like I stabbed him in the stomach and twisted the blade.

As I thought. Touchy subject.

"Now which one of you wants to feel that way again?" I continue smoothly.

Amer's gaze flicks wretchedly to the ground before he remembers what's going on and puts his guard back up.

Lovi, quivering and tearful, steps torward me.

"Lovi!" Amer starts, voice a bit rusty. "What are you doing?"

Lovi grips the sides of her arms, looking—if she could look—down. She stands there trembling for the slightest of moments before finally replying in a whisper.

"—I can't do this again, Amer."

Amer's jaw drops while I wait calmly.

"Wh-what do you mean?" he chokes out, hurrying to stand next to her.

"Amer, you saw me before the Games. I-I kill wa-one person, a-and _this _happens to m-me," she sobs. "I c-can't take this again! I d-don't want to d-die, I r-r-_really _d-don't, but _I can't d-do this again_...!"

Anything else she wanted to add is promptly cut off as I ram my blade into the side of her neck. With a shrill shriek, she collapses to the ground, convulsing, whether more from pain, fear, or her crying I don't know.

Amer takes in the scene for just a moment before he whips around, wide-eyed with shock.

"You—!"

"She just asked for it," I interrupt, keeping my tone even. I hold his gaze easily.

"Bu... A-Ah..." Unable to form words, he just stands trembling, his bare hand clamped over the gloved one like he's scared it's going to act on its own.

Lovi's cannon fires.

One down. One to go.

I look at Amer. He's still shocked, but I don't think I've disabled him quite enough to get out unscathed.

"How about you, then?" I start, letting my arm drop back to my side, Lovi's blood skimming off the blade's tip. "Do you want to die?"

Amer just stares at me.

"I... I don't know," he finally says hollowly.

I take a step toward him. "All right... Do you _deserve _to die?"

He cringes.

I think I've hit the bull's-eye.

"How many have you killed?" I go on casually. "You seem to have an awful lot of blood on your hands to me."

Amer looks down at his hands and seems to realise blood really is still there.

"You didn't answer my question."

He looks back up and, after a few moments, finally croaks, "Three."

I raise my eyebrows, looking impressed. "Really? Three people, with your own hands?"

"Y-Yeah." He swallows, unable to look me in the eye anymore. "A-and more... because of me..."

"So you've destroyed that many lives," I comment, taking another step toward him as he continues to break down. "I don't expect any of them went painlessly."

I make out a few tears dripping from his downcast face.

"N-No. Not at all."

"You murdered that many people... painfully... huh?"

Sniffing from tears, he nods.

"So answer me again: do you deserve to live?"

His hands drop to his sides.

"No."

I ram my blade through his throat and watch him bleed out at my feet.

"And I announce the winner of the 45th Hunger Games: Greis Karpusi!"

I look up at the sky as the hovercraft comes down.

Well. That was easier than I thought it'd be.

* * *

_And that is what would have happened if Lovi killed Spain._


	10. If Gil Chose Veta

Author's Note: Sorry for the short first chapter.

_Alternate Ending II: What if Gil chose Veta?_

Everything is the same until chapter 38 of _Brutal_. The POV of Thew Canda is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Gil Prus, District 10**

My shoulder hurts. Like, seriously, _freaking _hurts.

But it's _not even there_.

That's what pisses me off. Not only have I somehow gotten my arm chopped off, it still hurts. How unawesome is _that_?

Well, at least I haven't bled out. Have enough sponsors still to keep me alive. Not to mention my pure awesomeness. That's definitely keeping me alive, too.

But I've had enough of lounging around on the rocks. It's time to go out and win this thing already.

So, knife in hand, I push myself up, and, a little off-balance, start climbing.

There's no way I'm going to climb straight up the side of this thing with one arm, so I'm more circumnavigating, but still. I make progress.

Soon enough, I've made it to a crater wall. I toss my knife over and pull myself above the ridge—not easy, but anyone less awesome wouldn't be able to do this at all.

Landing and regaining my grip on the blade, I look around. I've landed in some sort of forest or jungle or something, looks like.

Well. Let's go find somebody to kill.

I push my way through the trees silently, only reacting once when the bandaged surface of my former shoulder bumps up against a tree trunk. At first I get the feeling all this hurting and searching is for naught, but then I hear something. Some_one_. I pause, listening carefully, before stalking toward the sound. It gets louder. Some sort of conversation.

"…anything for breakfast?"

"No, nothing."

Excited, I quicken my pace, bumping into a couple more branches, but I don't care about that. I'm this close to other tributes! Finally! A chance to show my sponsors my awesomeness!

…And then maybe _I'll _get some breakfast.

"Well, we're in the middle of a forest," the first voice, one that sounds feminine, continues. "There's probably _something _edible running around here."

I turn a corner and get a glimpse between the trees of two seated figures.

"True. Should I go out and try to find some edible plants?"

I come closer, pushing away moss until only one strand of the stuff separates me and the tributes. Tributes I finally recognise as that stupid couple from 8.

Ha! Of all the people to come across, I find the ones who've pissed me off from the first interview. This is freaking awesome!

"Yeah. I'll come with. If we find some vine or something, I could probably make a snare…"

Fingering my knife excitedly, I watch the two Eights stand.

Which one should I go for?

I think for a second, decide the girl's more annoying than the guy, and charge.

The girl takes a step back before she notices me, but it doesn't throw me off. I rocket toward her, knife ready, and she barely starts to get out a frying pan before I slash her throat open.

With a choked sound of pain, she drops the pan to clang loudly against the rocks and grass. As the blood continues to pour, coating her shirt as well as entering her throat, her balance falters, and she collapses onto the ground.

I whip around to face her district partner. He only just registers I killed his cuddle bunny before I put a gash through his neck, too. He joins her on the ground, and within a minute, they're both staring lifelessly at the clouds. The cannons fire in quick succession.

I nudge the guy's corpse with a short laugh.

"Stupid lovebirds."

Wiping some of the blood on my pants, I move along.

**Thew Canda, District 3**

Sleep interrupted by a cannon, I woke up.

And I really wish I hadn't.

Because my headache is back. Although it's less than when I first came to consciousness after Alf had incurred it... It's still nothing to laugh at, for sure.

I flop over on my side in an attempt to keep my eyes away from the suddenly-blinding sun. Even in the boughs of the swamp crater trees, there don't seem to be enough leaves to temper it.

But that also means there's plenty of space to get a donation parachute through to me.

So where is it?

I stretch my neck to glance at the sky again, but I don't see any cloth billowing down toward me. I let my gaze drop back down to the rest of the bog.

I guess I'm not really in that convenient a place for donations. One little breeze, and the parachute'd probably just fall into the swamp mud.

So do I need to get out of here? I really don't feel like moving…

With a sigh, I start to shift my position in the hammock of branches. It doesn't help my headache, and I'm pretty sore from crouching over a bunch of wood all night, but I eventually have a foot on the next branch down. From there, I shuffle down carefully, finally putting a shoe on the ground with a muddy splat. I put my other foot down, trying to ignore the discomfort of the mud slinking back into my boots, and start to trudge to the outside of the crater.

The going seems awfully slow for such a short distance, but it's probably so because of my headache.

But, headache or not, I eventually make it to the crater's edge, and, with a grunt, just manage to pull myself over onto the rocks. I flop down immediately, repeatedly cursing Alf for the headache.

All right, sponsors, I'm available. In pain, but available. So, food, pain meds, whatever'll help, I'm ready.

And finally, a parachute comes floating down.

I roll over to pluck the cloth away once it lands, revealing the donation.

A small plate of apple slices topped with a tiny pill. I think it's the same kind of pill they gave me before. But whatever it is, it's definitely not the good stuff.

What happened? Did my sponsors suddenly pull out? I don't see why they would do that.

Well, I know prices go up as the Games go on, but… I don't think it's been going on that long… Of course, I have no idea how long I was knocked out, but…

I look back down at the plate and take an apple slice.

Maybe I've been draining the sponsors dry by having them send me food. I mean, it's the safest thing to do, since you never know what could be poisoned in the arena.

But then again, the Capitol doesn't _want _me to be safe, does it?

I pick up the pill and twirl it in my fingers.

I guess this is sort of a message from my mentor. If we keep sending food, you're not going to get the drugs you want. Well, fine. Don't have much of a choice, do I?

With a sigh, I choke down the pill and start on the apples. Once the drug starts to work, I'll be off to get some food, I guess.

Here's hoping that goes well.


	11. Moving Out

The POV's of Lude Ermany and Liet Wingly are the same as they were in the original story.

* * *

**Lude Ermany, District 2**

I keep running. It hasn't done much to dissuade these hell crickets so far, but it's all I've got. I tried using my jacket as a shield, but the instant one of the bugs landed on it, it ignited.

Needless to say, that attempt didn't work.

So now I'm just sprinting around the mountain, hoping they'll somehow get tripped up by the rocks or something.

This is pathetic. Of all things to flee from—crickets! And I dare to call myself a soldier.

But, as weak as it may be, it's the only idea I've got. There's no way I could use any of those Cornucopia weapons on them. I can't take them on without weapons because I'll get burned. Even with most of them just on my tail, enough have sprung onto me to do some pretty bad damage; I can't feel the back of my right arm, and I really _wish _I couldn't feel the back of my left shoulder.

But I can. And the crickets are still after me. And that's not going to change anytime soon if I don't do something about it.

I've already figured out direct combat is useless. Running doesn't seem to work, either. Maybe, if I run into another tribute, I could reroute them—but there aren't very good odds of that happening.

So I have to use the environment somehow. The side of the mountain obviously isn't going to stall them, and neither is the savannah crater I had been in.

I try to think of the other craters I've seen from the summit. There's the swamp. Promising, but too likely to have another gator mutt waiting for me. And being without weapons, I do _not _want to put myself in that position.

There's the forest. But that wouldn't trip them up. More likely, they'd bump up against a few trees and light the whole crater up. Not going to get myself into that, either.

So, that leaves... What else was there? I try to focus, but it's hard to when I'm simultaneously sprinting for my life and trying to pry a new cricket off me before it burns through every layer of my skin.

The lake! That's what it was!

And what better way to stop fire than to wet it?

I have to keep running for a while before I've figured out where exactly I am in this mess. Then I take off for the lake crater.

I'm panting ridiculously hard before I reach the crater edge, but I still pull myself over with no problem. My boots slide jerkily over the slick shore pebbles, but I regain my balance enough to catapult myself forward, plunging into the water. The frigid surface slaps me hard, but once I'm under, the chill proves roborant. My burns slowly numb, and I'm distracted by the luxury for a minute—and then I remember the crickets.

I begrudgingly come up for air, and then survey the area.

The crickets coat the shore and the pier completely, but none of them have dared to come into the water.

I wonder...

Drawing toward the dangerous shore slowly, I keep an eye on the crickets. They don't move as I approach, even when I'm barely over a metre away.

Of course, the last time they didn't move for a while, I was attacked.

I go ahead and dip my head back under the water, as a precaution. The lake is miraculously clear, so I can still watch the mutts from here.

I tread water for a moment, and then, without warning, spring up and shove a wall of water toward them. They try to scuttle away, but the wave collides with them, and, after a high-pitched chorus and some sort of sizzling, they're splayed out limply across the pebbles. Some of their companions begin to back away, but I launch another series of splashes. Within a minute, I've showered the entire shore and then some. The colourful exoskeletons litter the area lifelessly.

Panting, I kick my way to the shore and poke at one of the ex-crickets experimentally. No burn. I pull myself out of the water and out of the crater.

Well, there's that. How about I go back to that gator?

**Liet Wingly, District 7**

I don't think my brother is feeling well. Even though he still won't let me walk on my own, he just seems so worn out. He could barely pull himself over the desert crater's edge a few minutes ago, and he didn't fare much better than me. And now, even though we've only been in the desert for a few minutes, he seems hugely overheated.

He keeps his back pressed against the crater edge—the only thing cool around—and his hand around our bow and the last arrow. Though he's keeping as focused a watch as he can, it's easy to tell how weakened he is. He's panting like a dog and can't seem to keep his eyes from squinting, even though frail little me isn't feeling the heat much at all.

"Hey... Switz?"

My brother clears his throat. "Yeah?"

"You know—" I twiddle my toes, although I can't see them under my boots—"we don't _have _to stay in the desert. It is pretty hot and all."

"Oh, no worries. We still... still have those canteens from the... the sponsors, you know?"

"Well, yeah, but..." I put my hands around his arm, which feels clammy. "It's so uncomfortable here. And there aren't enough tributes for all of the other craters to be taken..."

He sighs. "Do you... really want to move?"

I nod eagerly.

"...All right." He starts to get up, and I let go of his arm. Tucking the arrow back into his waistband and tossing the bow over his shoulder, he grips the ridge and starts to pull himself up. He barely gains five centimetres before sliding back to ground level.

"Oh!" I sling the little red backpack—which at this point only contains a box of matches and our new canteens—over my shoulder and scramble to my feet. "Do you need help?"

"Wha-no, no," my brother responds immediately. "I... I'm fine." He grunts and pulls himself up again, getting a little bit higher, but he still fails to clear the ridge.

"Are you okay?"

He stops and turns to look at me. "Yeah... Yeah. I'm okay." He uses his forearm to wipe some sweat from his brow. "It's just, uh... Just what I get for skipping breakfast."

He turns back around and places his hands on the crater edge.

"You skipped breakfast?"

He freezes.

"Uh, I..."

"But you told me you'd eaten it!" I exclaim. "You-you-!"

It suddenly dawns on me, and I stare at him horrified.

"You _lied _to me!" My words start to quicken. "How many-how many times have you done this? How long have you been _starving _yourself?"

"I... I haven't..."

"You did this back home, too, didn't you?" I cry. "How-how could you? After everything I've already taken from you, you—you—you just—you just keep..." I have to stop because I've started to hyperventilate. I take the pause to rub my eyes free of some tears I hadn't noticed until now. Still gasping, I try to calm down when my brother wraps his arms around me.

"...I'm sorry."

My breathing finally starts to slow down a bit.

"I know you don't like it," Switz continues quietly, "but... I'm doing it, anyway." He starts to pull away.

"I've worked too hard for you to lose you now."

**Gil Prus, District 10**

I climb around the mountain for about an hour before I see it.

At first I think it might be my imaginiation.

But I soon figure out it's not and grin, fingering my knife hungrily.

That dumb bird is back.

And I am _so _getting revenge.


	12. Enemies and Allies

The POV's of Russia Bragins and Switz Wingly are the same as they were in the original story.

* * *

**Russia Bragins, District 9**

I can't believe I still haven't found anyone! I've been exploring all morning, but I haven't seen a single tribute. I mean, I know the arena's really big, but... The Gamemakers would want us to find each other, right? So why can't we?

I don't know. But things aren't that bad. I'm still kinda beat up from my fight with Gil, so I don't mind not running into anyone. It's no fun by myself, but I should be grateful that I get a little time to heal up.

I haven't gotten anything from my sponsors since... Well, since the knife, I think. Maybe things have just gotten too expensive. That's all right, though. I've figured out ways to get food and water the last couple of days.

Speaking of which, I'm starting to get a little hungry.

Leaning forward, away from the mountainside, I shift my weight back to my feet and look around. I'm a few metres away from the crater with the Cornucopia and all of the hedges. I've already checked them for food, but I didn't recognise any of the berries, so I didn't take any chances with them. I haven't seen any animals running around there, either.

So... What else is around? There's my crater, but that place definitely has no food. I remember seeing another crater with a bunch of grass, but I don't see how anything edible could be hiding there.

I guess I'll climb up, then. I think there was a forest somewhere around here, too...

Putting my hands over the stones and trying not to flinch when they scrape, I start to clamber upward.

In a few minutes, I've managed to find the forest—not hard, since it's the only crater really full of trees—and I get a grip on the ridge when I hear something. Letting go, I turn and look about curiously. I can't see anything despite the bright noontime sun, but... Ah! There!

I trot over the stones toward the animal, which continues to stare at me lazily.

"Hello!"

It blinks its dark eyes at me, but doesn't move its brown head at all. I take another step closer, but it still doesn't seem to mind.

"Would you make a good lunch?"

No flash of alarm comes from its face, though it leans in a little bit.

I wonder if it _would _make a good lunch. I've never had pony before, but I am pretty hungry...

Oh, well! First time for everything, right?

I slash out with my knife and take it down easily.

Well, there's that! Let's go find something to cook it with!

Nudging the carcass a little bit so it won't fall off the mountainside, I run back over to the forest crater, pick up an assortment of fallen branches, and scurry back out toward my lunch.

Now I have to carve it up. I look over the mound of hair curiously, poking it with the handle of my knife. I'm not from 10—I don't know where all I'm supposed to get the meat from.

Oh, well. I'll figure it out after a while.

I sit down and start to dig my knife under its skin.

**Switz Wingly, District 7**

We're stopping here. I don't know what the problem is with this crater, but whatever it is, I can deal with it later. Right now, I really just want to lie down.

I manage to help Liet over, and she lands in the bright, green grass with an "oomph". Getting myself in there takes an uncomfortably larger amount of time, but I eventually follow her in.

I immediately slump down against the stone and into the grass. It starts to prick at my hands, but I'm too exhausted to worry about shifting my weight elsewhere.

What are we going to do now? I mean, besides pray that no one's going to find us—because that won't work for long.

Well, let's see. I'm starving and running some sort of fever. Liet can't defend herself from anyone with any sort of weapon or muscle. We have one arrow left that only I can use. There's no food anywhere around, unless the sponsors can send us some, and there's no water except for our canteens.

Just kind of crappy all around.

With a huge sigh, I flop over onto the grass, supporting my head with the hollow of my right elbow. I contemplate using the jacket tied around my waist as a pillow, but decide that's too likely to let me fall asleep.

This grass _is _kind of uncomfortable, though...

Oh, well. Beggars can't be choosers.

**Thew Canda, District 3**

Pills never last as long as you want them to. It's just past lunchtime—if you could still call it that since I've yet to eat—and my headache's already trying to make a full return.

I'm guessing my sponsors have finally decided to abandon me. They know they're the only ones keeping me alive, and it's obvious I'm not going to do well without more medicine. But they're not sending me more medicine, so they obviously don't care anymore.

Not that they actually cared in the first place. They don't care whether I live or die. All they want is their amusement. I suppose I've just started to bore them. Not much I can do about it, though, when my head feels like it's caving in on itself.

I guess I'll just keep moving on. Hope I find some food.

So, even though I _really _don't feel like moving at all, I find myself feeling my way along the side of the mountain. I think I'm progressing steadily downward, but, being unable to keep my eyes more open than slits for any amount of time, I can't really tell.

But I keep moving. Haven't found anything edible yet. Can't quite feel what's under my gloves. Still can't look around to find anything.

But I can still hear fine.

—And I think I hear someone laughing.

I pause, and the sound doesn't change. I'm guessing I'm not just imagining it—a figment wouldn't be loud enough to make my head hurt worse—and I know it's not coming from me. So someone else is around here.

The laughter fades off as something near the tribute screeches.

"Do your worst, ya stupid bird!" comes a taunt.

I try to place the voice, but I can't quite recognise it.

So. What do I want to do here? A tribute is nearby, and I don't know who. He's not a Career, because there's only one Career left, and I know his voice well enough. We're pretty far in the Games... I wonder if it would be worthwhile to have an ally at this point.

I'd better decide quickly. Whatever bird he's fighting sounds like it's going down soon. And I know I'm not in the best fleeing condition.

Something crashes into the rocks a metre in front of me, and I'm quick to assume it's the bird. I open my eyes enough to find out I'm correct before holding my breath to listen for the tribute.

I don't hear anything.

Is he hiding to attack me? If he were moving at all, surely I could pick out some sort of clattering. He's not dead, or a cannon would have fired...

Releasing my breath, I carefully start toward the scene. I feel my way along, taking a few large steps to bypass the obviously-muttated bird, until I can finally pick out a silhouette. Carefully, I open my eyes wide enough to see a little better.

The tribute is Gil. I can't remember his district. His eyes are closed, and I wonder if he's unconscious. He's sitting, his back against the mountainside, in a shallow puddle of his own blood. I see a fresh-looking wound from his chest to the very bottom of his neck that must be the source.

And then his arm is kind of... _missing_.

It doesn't look like it's been bleeding recently, though, and a stray limb isn't anywhere to be seen, so it must have been taken off earlier.

I start to close my eyes back up, to relieve the extra tension in my head from the light, but then I notice the knife in his hand.

Well, whatever I'm planning to do about this guy, one decision is obvious.

I take a few steps over and slip the blade out of his grasp.

He groans.

With a startled jump high enough to be comical, I almost stumble upon landing. I keep my grip on the knife handle, though, and when Gil opens his eyes, I probably look recovered enough.

"Yo."

I blink, wondering if that really just came from his mouth.

"Uh, hi."

He shifts before suddenly realising something.

"Hey! Gimme my knife back."

I put the blade behind my back instinctively. "Nuh-uh," I breathe.

Gil grumbles something under his breath and stretches.

"So, what? Are you trying to make an alliance so you can feed off my awesomeness?"

"Um..." I look down at him. He's injured, so he's not all that useful. But I'm injured, too. In the case of an attack, we'd both be better off with someone on our side. "Yeah."

" 'Kay." He narrows his eyes at me and stretches out his hand.

"Now gimme my knife back."

Unable to keep an amused smile from my face, I say no again.

"You are _so _lucky I'm not at my awesomest right now."

I put the knife in my pocket.

"I bet."


	13. Your Other Ally

The POV's of Lude Ermany and Russia Bragins are the same as they were in the original story.

* * *

**Lude Ermany, District 2**

Aside from the crickets, today was pretty uneventful. Two cannons went off, but I had nothing to do with either. I haven't run into any tributes at all, but I haven't exactly been searching for them. As much as I hate to admit it, the burns hurt. A lot. It's about all I can do to keep prying the skin off this gator.

But, I finally get to the meat by suppertime—which here is hardly before dusk—and it makes a good meal. Though I can't say my injuries are feeling any better, I'm a lot more comfortable on a full stomach.

I decide I'm going to hunt tonight. There aren't many tributes left—as the toll recounts now, only six remain—so the Gamemakers are apt to push us together. But… I'd rather find my own fights than have them neatly tied up and delivered to my doorstep.

So, morningstar in hand, I step outside the savannah. The wind chills my burns to an uncomfortable extent as I peer over the mountainside. From here I can just see the edge of the lake, and a crater filled with long strands of grass—as well as a tribute striding through its fronds. That crater is the furthest down the mountainside, but an opponent waits.

I set off. Stone by stone, I climb down, coming up close to the lake crater in a matter of minutes. I'm tempted for a minute to go jump in, see if it could do the same thing for my burns it did earlier. But even the air is significantly cooler than before, and I'm doubtful that taking a dip in icy water would do me much good. So I keep moving, although having to twist my burnt joints around to climb makes me quickly start to regret my decision.

Nevertheless, I'm soon upon the grassy crater edge. The tribute apparently hadn't noticed me climbing down; I locate him rolled up in the fronds snugly and obliviously.

Oh, well. Honestly, I wouldn't mind an easy kill when I'm in this kind of condition.

Holding my weapon carefully so it doesn't clank, I put my other hand on the ridge, and, with a grunt, throw myself over.

And then the piercing frigidity slams into me like a two-by-four.

Whatever concerned me about the cooler nighttime lake is triply justified here. Of all times to be without a jacket! Just the shock of the sudden glacial temperature against my burns is enough to eke an involuntary yelp of pain out of me.

—The tribute stirs.

Well. So much for that easy kill.

**Russia Bragins, District 9**

I haven't quite fallen asleep when I hear someone yelp. Flopping over curiously, I untangle myself from my makeshift covers and pop my head up over the grass.

Sure enough, right in front of me is another tribute.

Yay! I finally get to have some fun!

I scuttle to my feet, although being surrounded by less grass makes me colder.

"Hello!"

The other tribute—Lude from 2, I think—doesn't respond. He just grimaces, trying to keep his grip on his nefarious-looking weapon while it clatters from his exaggerated shivering. While I'm shuddering from the cold, too, compared to him, I'm standing stiller than still.

I wrap my hand around the knife blade in my pocket.

"S-so, are you going to m-make this fun?"

Lude returns nothing but a scowl, and I frown a little.

Oh, well. I bet I can figure out a way to have fun with this, even if he doesn't want to help.

"You look pretty c-cold," I comment truthfully. Not only is he missing a jacket and shivering violently, most of his skin has started to take on a bluish hue. The patches of skin that haven't shifted colour are odd-shaped, red-and-black blotches that certainly don't look very fun.

But they don't seem to hinder him much when he takes his first swing at me.

All but caught unawares, I only manage to pull out enough so that my arm is merely scored across. The slight impact doesn't seem to affect the spiky ball's momentum—and it looks like Lude's having some trouble taking care of it himself. While he tries to stop the thing from circling, I slash out, getting a cut across his collarbone. He hardly flinches.

It really seems like the cold is hurting him more than anything else...

He finally gets his weapon under control, but his arm is shaking so violently he can't seem to get it back into swinging order. He finally just drops the thing, deciding it's useless, and lunges at me.

I dodge, but I can't get another strike on him until a few swings later. Lude pauses just long enough, in just the right orientation, for me to send my knife ripping straight down his shirt collar to expose his torso. Although I don't put a scratch on his skin, he reacts as if something much worse than my knife has cut him. He stumbles jerkily, bashing his back on the crater edge before involuntarily sliding down.

"It really is too c-cold for you, huh?" I laugh, trotting closer. Lude seems to be making an effort to get up, but doesn't seem to have enough control of his limbs to do so.

"Well, are you going to make this any more fun?" I ask, suspicious he might not be able to fight anymore. "Because if you aren't, I'll just kill you now."

He doesn't react.

So I do.

**Gil Prus, District 10**

I guess this isn't too bad. I'm knifeless, but I guess if the new alliance gets attacked, the new guy'll be able to use it. He'd better, or he's out.

And I'm still beat up—I _kinda _want to slouch over against the mountainside for a while and rest, but... That's lame. Seriously. If I do that, it's like saying I honestly got my butt kicked by that bird. Which I didn't. Obviously. Because I won.

I mean, I apparently didn't end up killing him, but I never said it was a fight to the death, anyway.

"You do realise he's still following us around?"

I look up at the 3 before looking back behind me. The bird is still staggering along behind us. He only has one leg now and no talons, but he still goes on that one foot, only taking to the air to circle overhead a few times before going back to hobbling.

" 'Course I know."

This doesn't seem to be quite enough of an answer for the 3.

"And you're fine with that," he continues, quietly, almost making it sound like a question.

"Uh, yeah. If Gil-bird wants to follow us, it's fine with me. He won't be doing any more harm."

My ally stops in his tracks for a moment.

"_What _did you just call him?"

"Gil-bird."

Three stares at the bird for a second and then back at me.

"What?" he repeats.

"Gil-bird. It's his name." He still doesn't comprehend, so I roll my eyes at him and explain. "Okay, so he survived a battle against _me_. So he has the be the awesomeest of all the birds out there. And I'm the awesomest of all the people out there. So he's me, as a bird. Gil-bird."

Three turns back around to keep walking, too awestruck by my superior logic to say anything else.

We keep travelling for a while to find a late supper.

Finally, we run into a snake, but Three keeps missing it with the knife.

"Just give it to me," I demand, holding my hand out. Three stares at my palm but does nothing.

"Do you want something to eat or not?"

Three pauses for a while before turning back toward the snake. "I can get it myself."

"Then why haven't you gotten it yet?"

The Three ignores me.

Grumbling, I pull my hand back. If he doesn't get this… Well, I could attack him and get the knife back, but I'd probably get swept up in it and kill him. And that can wait, if he actually does anything useful. I don't know, maybe he can cook or something.

Three tries a few more times for the snake, but still can't keep up. I'm a second away from claiming the knife anyway before a sudden wind blows my hair up.

I just notice Gil-bird diving before the snake finds its head clipped off by a beak.

Gil-bird hops over proudly to let us see his victory for us.

Three blinks, impressed at how much the eagle-mutt has apparently joined our side, and takes the body of the snake carefully. I congratulate Gil-bird, stroking his head affectionately before getting back to helping Three with skinning the snake.


	14. Left Behind

**Switz Wingly, District 7**

Liet has fallen asleep by the time the faces light up the sky. She's still leaning back against the crater edge, her arms folded loosely and resting on her lap. I'm in a seated position, too, though I suspect I've already gotten all the sleep I'm going to get today.

I watch the Capitol seal when it appears, and the faces that follow. The first is Austria's.

…

So he died after all. Well… fine. We weren't friends. We were barely allies. And _he's_ the one who abandoned _us_. So it's his own fault.

And, for my sister to get out of this alive, well, he would have had to die, anyway. So it all works out in the end.

The next face is Veta's. I wonder if she went down with her fiancé, or just wouldn't bother to go on without him.

However she died, she's gone now. And in a matter of seconds, her face is gone from the sky as well, replaced by the Capitol seal.

So… Two more gone. That leaves… Well, me and Liet. And then Russia, who might have a vendetta against me for shooting an arrow at him. One of the Careers is still alive. And I don't think I've seen that crazy kid from 10 in the death toll, either. And then… I think someone else is left, but I can't put a finger on exactly who it is.

So, that means six of us. Only four opponents to take down, and after that… Me. And then my sister goes home.

…I'm still not sure how this is going to work out. I mean, no matter how lucky I've been so far, eventually, I'm going to have to kill some people.

But… I can sort that out later. There's no need to now.

The last flourish of the anthem dies and leaves me in an eerie silence. It's easy to see how my sister could have fallen asleep in this—it's utterly peaceful.

But that also gives me the inchoate feeling that something bad's about to happen.

A while of nothing—excluding a peculiar throbbing in my hands and arm—doesn't relieve my premonition.

And what happens afterward confirms it.

I hear growling. It still seems pretty far behind me, but we're in the middle of the Hunger Games—that distance isn't going to last long.

Dreading the imminent run, I tell Liet to get up in a soft voice, and I put my hands on the grass to push myself up—

—And instantly recoil with a shout of pain.

"S…Switz?" My sister sounds simultaneously alarmed and sleepy as she stirs.

I glance at my hands and just make out the crisscrossing, inflamed scratches. Where did these come from? Unless…

"Don't move!"

Liet gives a start but halts her motion.

"What's going on?"

"Just-just don't touch the grass, okay?"

I exhale through gritted teeth as the pain in my hands not only fails to go away, but also starts to spread to my arm. Suddenly reminded of why I was trying to get up in the first place, I wobble up without using my hands and finally manage to stand.

Liet looks at me concerned, but still obeys my command not to move.

I listen for a while, and I swear the noise has gotten louder.

"All right," I start, holding out my uncut arm to my sister, "get up." She latches onto my arm and starts to pull herself up.

"Do you think you can climb over the ridge yourself?" I continue.

"Um, yes, I think so. But why are we moving?"

"We're not moving just yet. But it sounds like something's close, and we'd better be ready," I respond, tensing and untensing one of my hands in a failed attempt to mitigate the pain.

The darkness is already faded out enough to my eyes for me to see fur-covered shapes moving through the moonlight. I have to squint before I can count three of them. Are they... wolves?

A chill skitters down my spine.

I've had a little experience with wolves back in District 7—you leave them alone, they leave you alone. But, seeing as we're in the middle of the Hunger Games, I have a feeling it won't be that easy.

I cautiously take a step back, motioning for my sister to get back into a riding position very slowly. The wolves continue to approach at the same pace. I back up a few more hesitant steps, but fail to dissuade them. But what else can I do? I only have one arrow left, and it's not like I could take on a single one of them—let alone two—hand-to-hand. All I can do is run, and I'm pretty sure I won't be able to for long. And if I don't do anything, they're sure to attack eventually.

Well, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?

I turn around and run.

I can't tell if they pick up the pace behind me. All I know is that I have to run for shelter and get there before my legs give out, or we're both dead.

The grass of the crater passes by underfoot more quickly than I'd like, and soon I'm at the crater urging Liet over. She pulls herself to the other side easily enough. I, on the other hand, have to navigate around the circumference of the ridge for a while, tapping my feet to try and find a foothold. I get something within a few metres, so, putting my foot on the shortest rock I could find, I hoist myself upward unstably, clomp my foot down on the highest part of the ridge here, and jump over, barely landing on my feet.

With a command on my part, Liet is back on my back, and we're tearing through the rocks.

The next crater isn't close. And as I continue running, I can hear the mutts steadily gaining. I suspect it's because I'm slowing down.

I don't think I can go much longer… But… I have to get Liet out of this…

A cannon fires.

Well, less to compete with if we get out of this, somehow.

But as we keep running, no sanctuary in sight, I start to believe less and less we will get out.

I can practically feel the wolves' breath at my heels as I stumble through the rocks. I'm still going as fast as I can, but "as fast as I can" is getting closer and closer to "too slow".

I... I really don't think I'm going to make it out of here...

Having to strain my lungs to the utmost, I ask Liet if she can run. Trembling, she says yes.

I can barely lift her over my head, but she jumps down soon and starts running ahead of me. A weight lifted, I'm able to go a little faster. We keep pace for a little while until I start unwillingly dropping back. Alarmed, Liet does the same, but I force myself to tell her to keep going.

"I'll catch up," I get out before the running demands all of my breath again.

Liet, not completely falling for it but convinced enough, picks up the pace.

Before she can get too far away, I remember the bow and arrow and hold them out to her. She almost refuses to take them, but I tell her it's to lighten my load. Still hesitant, she goes ahead and grabs them.

And still we run. My sister continues to pull ahead, and I do my best to keep going.

And then something takes a bite out of my arm.

I pull my limb back away from it, cursing inwardly for finding the air to scream in pain.

Liet hears and falters, looking back.

"I'll catch up!" I get out, barely coherent. "Just—keep—running!"

Shaking hard, she turns her head back around and obeys.

Not aware of anything that could be keeping me moving, I force my legs onward. But jaws seize my foot, and I barely pull everything but my shoe out before another wolf clamps down on my side.

Unable to support me any longer, my knees collapse on me, making me slam into the ground. Teeth rip into my shoulder, tearing out a sizeable chunk of flesh before one of the wolves starts gnawing my foot off.

Nearly blind from the sheer pain, I put my other hand forward, to try and pull myself somewhere, but by the time I've gotten it to move, the wolf at my shoulder has started to tear my injured arm away piece by piece, and I'm too agonised to move myself anywhere.

All I can do is stare at the creatures, muzzles slick with the blood coating the rocks, eating away at my body.

I'm short two limbs before the blood loss thankfully, mercifully shuts off my senses.


	15. Don't Wait

**Liet Wingly, District 7**

I don't want to stop here, but I don't have a choice. I'm too tired, and this is the only shelter I'm going to get to.

Swallowing fear, I put my hands on the crater ridge and heave. I end up slumping back down the first try, but the second time, I finally balance on the edge for a moment before flipping myself over.

I try not to cringe when my feet slap the swamp water. The last time this happened, I almost got my leg bitten off.

Shaking my head to dispel the memory—I may not have time to spare—I forge way way through the smelly stuff, tickles still travelling down my arms in anticipation of the alligator.

But I haven't seen any part of him by the time I get to the first tree, and I pull myself up thankfully. The tree is thin, but it can support me, and I don't think the wolves—or the alligator—will be able to get me here.

I prop myself up in the branches and inhale shakily. My gaze drifts to the weaponry in my hands. The arrow snapped in half somewhere along the way, so I only have the head end of it. The bow is unmarred.

This is all I have left of my brother.

I slap a hand over my mouth to make myself stop thinking that. This isn't all. He said he would catch up... He said he would catch up...

Forcing away the conflicting feeling, the one I really know is true, I repeat this to myself. He said he would catch up. He will catch up.

Another wave of bile rises in my throat when I think of the last time I saw him. Blood covering and gushing from his arm, a wolf with its lips around his foot...

But it's okay! He's fine! He said he'd catch up. I know there was a cannon, but it could have been anyone! Anyone but him. Because he said he'd catch up.

And he will. He will...

**Russia Bragins, District 9**

Looks like I won't be eating breakfast today. Mostly because it's almost noon and I haven't found anything to eat. So, if I do get my hands on something, it'll be more like brunch.

Brunch—that sounds kind of fun!

I clamber around the rocks some more, trying to figure out where the closest crater is, when something abruptly starts to tug my neck to the side. Pausing in my climbing, I turn quizzically to find that the tear in my scarf has caught on a rock. I guide the cloth over the stone carefully; I don't want it to get any more damaged than it already is. The scarf slowly makes it way off and dangles limply in my grasp.

I watch it for a moment as it sways in the mild breeze.

I always liked this scarf. I can't quite remember when sis made it for me, though... 9 years ago? 10?

Sis... It's still kind of weird to think that she's gone...

But it's not all so bad. I can still have fun in the Hunger Games and kill some people.

Hmm... Now that I think about it, that's what the person who got rid of my sister did, wasn't it? Am I doing the same thing, really?

No, no way. When he killed Ukraine, I was sad for a little bit. But I'm not making anyone sad. So, yeah! I have to be doing something a _little _different.

Tossing my scarf back over my shoulder, I continue around the mountain unabated.

The first crater I come up to is the forest. Is there food there? I haven't seen any, but I'm sure there must be _something_.

I peer over the ridge, but it doesn't look promising. With the smallest of sighs, I turn back around and look back out over the mountainside.

Did something just move?

Another flash of fur tells me something did.

Well! Time for my brunch, then!

I start after the creature.

**Liet Wingly, District 7**

I'm getting kind of hungry. I think... I think this is actually the first time I haven't had anything to eat. Some meals were barely enough to be called such, but I always had something.

I wonder how many times Switz ate. He never ate with me for breakfast, so probably none of that.

My thoughts are cut off by a loud splash.

Hairs on the back of my neck prickling, I try to locate the source of the sound. It takes a minute, but I'm soon able to see the Russia boy splashing through the crater, a knife in his hand.

A bloody knife.

He's not far enough away for me to get down from here and start running. I'll have to stand my ground somehow.

I put my arm through the bow, wrap my shaking hands around what's left of the arrow, and wait.

"Hello!" he sings, so cheerfully I can't believe he's out to kill me. But a second look at his deceptively smiling face is enough to prove otherwise.

That, and the first swing he takes at me.

I push myself to the side to dodge, slamming against two branches I'm terrified won't take my weight. They manage it well enough, and I'm able to inch up the tree a bit before Russia strikes again. He gets a scratch across my ankle before deciding I'm up too high and putting a hand on the branches.

Once he starts to pull himself up, the branch snaps.

He gives a startled yelp and splashes into the mud, while I cling perilously to the few branches left.

He can just break them all down, one by one, if he has to. I can't just keep clinging here like a frightened kitten.

Taking a deep breath, I wait for him to try again. When he tries his hand on a second branch, I pounce.

Taken by surprise, Russia starts to lose his balance, but not before I shove the arrowhead into his midsection. We both splatter into the foul-smelling mud, but I can get up quicker.

I start running again. It's a few sweet seconds before I can hear him splutter and come back to his feet. I still haven't made it to the crater edge, but thankfully I can get there before he can. Gasping for breath, I get to the crater edge and grasp the ridge before realising my feet are stuck.

Making incoherent sounds from the terror, I struggle and flail, finally rescuing one foot from the muck. I try to pull myself with just that, but my other foot has sunk too far into the mud.

A cold hand rests on my shoulder.

With an involuntary shriek, I twist myself around to face him. He tries to slash at my face, but just as the blade starts to dig into my cheek, I bring the bow around and pound Russia in the skull.

More surprised than stunned, he hesitates, and I take the chance to keep beating at him. He retreats a step, but it's not enough for me to make anything of. I just keep hitting him.

Until he catches the bow in his hand.

Our tug-of-war lasts for only a moment; he easily wrenches it from my grasp and sends it spinning into the dirty water.

Not fighting the fearful tears, I try to pull myself over, to hop backward, to do something, but it's useless.

Russia embeds his knife into the side of my neck.

With a shrill gasp of pain eking from my lips, he pulls the knife back out and watches bemusedly as the blood pours. My pulse pounds my ears as I feel the blood gushing from my neck like lava from a volcano. My vision starts to accumulate little black spots, and I'm unable to keep standing. Twisting my leg further, I fall into the mud.

It's not deep enough to drown me. My face and some of my neck is still all above it. The smelly grains attack the submerged part of my wound, while the rest of the slash continues to sent a jet of blood skimming merrily across the surface.

My vision goes, and I feel the weakening surge of blood.

So I'm going to die here. Not for anything, not for anyone, and definitely not for my brother.

I guess he won't catch up with me. Although I've really known that all along.

I'll just have to catch up with him.


	16. Sweet Revenge

**Thew Canda, District 3**

Why do I have to attract all of the weirdos?

Don't get me wrong; I like the company. But first I get a guy without brains enough to tie his shoelaces, and now I end up with a guy who talks a lot but knows about ten words other than "awesome". Just... Eck.

It's still better than being all alone, though. Gil's not that proficient in carrying out intelligent conversation, but he's a likeable person. If it weren't so late in the Games, I'd probably honestly enjoy his company.

But it is. I already heard a cannon. I don't know how many more blew when I was knocked out, so I stopped keeping count, but either way, there can't be many left.

I hope no one wants us to go on the hunt. There aren't any Careers left to do that, and I've seen the Gamemakers push other tributes around to do it, but hopefully they won't choose us. Not now. I got another pill, but it's still nothing compared to whatever they sent me in the syringe. I'm guessing that must be too expensive now. Either that, or Gil's mentor doesn't like me much.

Either way, I'm not in the best hunting condition. We haven't moved around that much, so Gil hasn't quite sensed my weakness. That's fine by me. For all I know, we could end up the final two, and I'd prefer a little fear on his part, if that's possible.

I look over at Gil. He's reclining next to me watching Gil-bird circle over his head lazily. How the resemblance of it with a vulture circling someone about to die doesn't get him thinking, I don't know.

"You know how many are left?"

"What?" I respond, although my brain finally registers the question in the middle of his repetition. "Ah," I start, "no, I don't. I haven't been keeping track."

"Man," Gil sighs with a grin, "you're from 3! Aren't you supposed to be a whiz with numbers?"

"There's a difference between finding a derivative in a classroom and attempting to keep track of twenty-four people over several days, if not weeks, while you're fighting for your life."

"You sure about that?"

"Ha! Pretty sure."

Gil leans back, letting a deep breath out through half-closed lips. "Wonder who all's left, though."

"Yeah."

**Russia Bragins, District 9**

I still don't know where my brunch went. I lost track of it in the swamp, so I guess I'm not going to get to eat it.

Oh, well! I can always find something else, right?

What else is around here, then?

I sit up from the rocks I've been lounging on and look around. Just a buncha rocks, it looks like. There are some little-bitty trees, but I can tell from here nothing is in them.

And then I finally spot a flash of brown fur.

Ah! My brunch is back!

Well, it's probably lunch by now, but that's okay! It's still food.

Pushing myself to my feet with a grunt, I start after the creature.

**Gil Prus, District 10**

I'm watching Gil-bird fly in cheerful, tight circles when Three nudges my arm.

" 'Sup?"

Thew, holding his breath, points over past my former shoulder. I follow his gaze and find myself looking straight at that kid that challenged me.

My grin stretches across my face. So he's not gone yet after all!

I turn back toward Thew, who's frowning.

"Okay, _now _give me the knife," I say, holding my hand out.

"Why?" he starts slowly, bringing his hand around his back so I can't see the gleam of the steel.

I jab a finger back toward the approaching kid, who's still a good fifteen metres away. "Him. I don't know for absolutely sure you can take him on, and I promised to kill him, anyway."

Three stares at me like I just turned into a pocketwatch-sized baby bird.

"What?"

It takes him a minute to finally use his words. "You mean, seriously kill him?"

"Uh, duh?" I reply impatiently. "Now give it; he's almost here."

Three shakes his head, still wide-eyed, and stumbles back a few steps.

"Hey! What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" I demand, getting to my feet as well. He doesn't answer me. He only retreats a little further.

"This isn't funny, man," I warn, closing the gap and staring him down. "Now give me the knife!"

Three shakes his head, taking another step back.

"Give it!" I close the gap again.

He still won't hand it over.

"I said, _give it_!" I shout, tackling him and pinning a shoulder to the ground with my knee. He tries to squirm away, but I crash my other foot down on his legs.

"Come on, now," I breathe, leaning in, "don't be unawesome. Just hand it over, and I won't kill you."

"You'll kill me the second you're done with him," Three retorts, stubbornly keeping his right hand lodged behind his back.

"Yup. Better than killing you now, though, don't you think?"

"Not at all!"

With a grunt, he bucks me off. I tumble back onto my head but recover quickly.

"You asked for it!" I tell him, charging him before he's completely on his feet. He's knocked back over easily, but before he can fall, I bring my foot around to his back to make him slam chest-first into the mountainside.

He drops the knife.

I release him to snag the blade from ground and turn back toward him. He still hasn't recovered.

Too bad. I was kinda starting to like this guy.

Oh, well.

I swing the weapon around, but I get a knife in my back before I can cut Three's throat.

I freeze with a gasp of pain before the blade is slid back out of me. Gripping my knife tighter, I whip around to see that idiot's smiling face.

**Russia Bragins, District 9**

Gil only stares at me lividly for a moment before I bring my weapon around again. He blocks my knifing my hand, and I can't help but pull back as flames of pain lick at the newest wound.

But I don't have time to recover—Gil's back swinging again, and I don't dodge in time to avoid another cut across my collarbone. He pulls his arm back—wow! he only has one arm now!—and I thrust my knife forward toward his stomach. I get a few centimetres in before he slashes across my shoulder, I cry out in pain, but manage to keep my blade in him for a second. Experimentally, I twist it around before pulling it back out.

Gil takes only one step back from the pain, and I let myself blink wonderingly at the blood patterns on my knife. Then I jump back in.

My first attack is to Gil's chest, and although he does dodge, I get a thin slice between his lower ribs. He retaliates quickly, bringing his knife up to get a score all the way diagonally across my torso. I slash at him again, but he blocks my blade and pushes himself forward, sinking his knife into my shoulder.

I pull back, all of his knife below the handle sliding out of my flesh. Not missing a beat, he slashes forward again, but he doesn't hit me.

I didn't dodge. What happened?

I blink a few times, looking over the scene I hadn't quite comprehended, and see a pair of hands grabbing Gil's head from behind and bringing it hard against the rocks. Gil crumples to the ground, but a cannon doesn't fire.

Meanwhile, the other tribute—Thew, I think—leans over the fallen Ten and takes the knife.

And then he's promptly dive-bombed by a blur of feathers.

Pulling back in confusion at the battle that doesn't seem to involve me, I watch a large bird pull back up from Thew, who struggles back to his feet despite the blood welling out of his chest. The eagle-thing attacks again, and Thew responds by slashing at one of its wings. He looks on in victory as the creature tumbles to the ground.

But it doesn't hit the rocks before I have my knife through Thew's chest.

Startled by my jumping in, Thew looks at me bug-eyed before collapsing back against the mountainside. The blood streaming out from the hole in his heart is interesting to watch, so I look on for a minute, but I soon grow bored. I turn toward Gil.

He's still knocked out when Thew's cannon goes off, but I walk over toward him and kneel down. Looking curiously at his face, I prod him a few times in hope he might wake up. But he doesn't.

So I run my knife through his neck.

* * *

_And that is what would have happened if Gil chose Veta._


	17. If Amer Stopped Raivis

_Alternate Ending III: What if Amer stopped Raivis?_

Everything is the same until chapter 32 of _Horrible_. The POV's of Amer Jones and Vahn Larus are the same as they were in the original story.

* * *

**Amer Jones, District 10**

I drag myself back to where my alliance is sleeping.

Oh, I don't feel good. My stomach's beyond sore, my head is throbbing like crazy, and I'm just beat up. I bet it's going to be even worse in the morning.

And now, thanks to my lack of wearable glasses, everything's blurry. I'm not going to be walking face-first into tree trunks or anything, but I'm definitely not going to notice details. It'll be worse long-distance. I don't think an approaching tribute would disappear from sight, but it'd probably just be a moving blob over the hazy mountainside.

But you know what? It's worth it. I protected my alliance from a hostile tribute, and I'm not beaten up enough to be unable to do it again.

I cringe at my thought process. Protection or not, I still just killed a human being. But… I-I don't know. It's not like I don't have good reason. The guy pulled a knife on me. I wouldn't be able to keep fighting if it went on longer—not to mention he was about to knock me out. He may have lost the knife by then, but… If I'm not conscious, I can't really stop him from getting to it and killing me with it.

And if I'm gone, who's gonna protect my friends?

I clear the edge of the jungle and trudge on to my left, following my own footprints left in the soil. I reach my sleeping friends—in about five times the time it took to trek this distance unharmed—and slump down, back against the crater wall.

Within a few seconds of my doing this, a parachute comes drifting down. The donation lands in my lap, and I pull the cloth away.

I've received a sort of armoured glove, with several plates arranged on top of the cloth so I can still move my fingers unobstructed. There's no metal on the palm, but all of the plates on the furthermost joints—the fingertips, that is—have been drawn out past the cloth into shiny, sharp claws.

So I've gotten a nice weapon. The Capitol approves of what I've done tonight. But do I?

I don't know. No matter how I justify it, there's just something inherently wrong with killing another person. Maybe we could have become friends?

Well, no, that wouldn't happen. Every time I—or anyone else I saw, for that matter—approached Sadik in the Training Center, he reacted in a very unfriendly way.

Maybe he wouldn't have gone through with killing me?

Well… He always acts hostile. He had a knife. If he wanted to live, he would have had to kill me, anyway, so I don't see why he wouldn't when he had the perfect chance.

No matter whether I'm trying to say what I did is right or wrong, I just keep going in circles. Things just don't make sense here. In the Hunger Games. It's senseless enough to force children to fight to the death without having to make it more… _interesting _for the viewers. Making the arena huge, so everyone can sneak up on everyone else. So people can hide, so people can ally. So people can betray the alliance and kill everyone anyway. So no one can trust anyone else unless they're foolish.

Hm. I guess that means I'm foolish for trusting Eston and Raivis so much. But you know what? I don't care. I don't care much about anything anymore. I just… I just want to help some people. I may end up traumatised, I may end up heartbroken, I may end up dead. But I don't care. I'm just going to help as many people as possible. And if that means hurting a few people, well, I'd rather let myself be a monster than force my friends to murder.

I don't know what difference I'm hoping to make.

But I really hope it's a good one.

**Vahn Larus, District 9**

I actually got a good night's sleep.

I pin it mostly to that knockout drug. Even now I doubt it's completely worn off. I've let it run its course without pushing it; I didn't search for my former companions yesterday, so I just ended up climbing some of the tree's branches in search for food. I seem to have already gone through most of the squirrels, but I still got my hands on a good handful of small birds.

Of course, it ended up taking about the whole day to actually eat them, since I'm absolutely no good at feathering or skinning or boning or whatever you're supposed to do to the things. The meat's not as appetising when it's mangled, bloody, and—after some misuse of a fire—horribly burnt, but, you know. It's still food.

A dinner like that really made me miss my minions. I suppose meals like that will be commonplace if I don't get them back.

But it would be such a mess to try and re-recruit them. I don't know how their minds would be affected by the death of the 10, but surely they wouldn't work as well. And if poor, little Raivis gets it in his mind that he still needs to run away, I'll have to keep punishing him. I don't want to keep expending my energy and dulling my pickaxe when there are so many other tributes to deal with. Fourteen remain to be killed at the moment, and I'll need to keep my strength if I plan on eliminating them all and earning my life.

So, although my taste buds will certainly regret it, I'll go ahead and kill them.

Resting my pickaxe on my shoulder, I hop onto the crater wall, hop back off, and look for my prey.

**Raivis Lithu, District 12**

By the time I wake up, Eston is already fingering our remaining apples to decide what we'll get for breakfast. Or _if _we'll get breakfast.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" Amer greets loudly, smiling. He seems glummer than usual… But it's Amer. He's always cheerful. I must just be imagining things.

"Morning," I get out quietly before Eston turns to see me.

"Hey, you're up," he says aloud, setting an apple back in its little basket. "So, guys," he starts, "do you want less for lunch and supper, or no breakfast?"

"Uh…" Amer sighs. "I vote for no breakfast."

"Okay. You, Raivis?"

"U-um…" I look down at the basket. "I-I agree?"

Eston raises an eyebrow, but nods. "Works for me."

I yawn, rubbing the last of the sleep out of my eyes and looking around. The sun's up—since when do we have a sun here? Maybe I just didn't notice it before—the jungle is whispering in the breeze, Eston is scratching into the dirt boredly, and Amer is…

"Wh-what happened?" I exclaim, staring at his bruised limbs and face, and his scuffed-up clothes.

Amer blinks, and I realise he's also lost his glasses. "Uh, yeah… On my watch, I kinda… fell down the side of the mountain a little bit…" He laughs, but it sounds forced.

"Graceful, graceful," Eston responds, a ghost of a smile on his lips, sounding like he's already been told this.

"Aw, shut it," Amer responds, feigning sulkiness.

I smile a bit, and then look down. I immediately notice my hand. It's still wrapped carefully, but it's going to have to stay in the same gauze for a while, since we've run out. Eston has assured me it's unlikely to get infected, but it's been hurting a little more this morning… Or maybe I'm just imagining it? I don't know.

And then I suddenly hear a crunching sound to my right. I look, peering over the crater edge, and my heart stops.

Vahn is walking toward us.

"Raivis? Raivis! What's wrong?"

I barely notice the words, just like I barely notice how much I've started shaking. Subconsciously, I jump to my feet, almost stumbling. And then I turn around and bolt.

I make an effort to warn the others before my voice is out of range, but I don't quite form words.

A hand snatches my wrist, and I scream before I can register it's not Vahn.

"Raivis! Raivis, calm down!" Amer commands, maintaining his grip so I can't keep running.

"Bu-bu-b-b-but it's V-V-V—"

"I know," Amer interrupts. "But it's okay, all right? There's three of us and one of him. We can—we can take him."

"Wh-wh-wh-wh-what?" I squeak. "N-n-n-no, we can't! He—he—he—he just... A-aah..." My mind's too far lodged into frantic mode to put together a sentence.

"It's okay, Raivis," Amer repeats, starting to pull me back toward the crater edge. "I'm not going to let you get hurt."

Whimpering and not entirely convinced, I let myself be dragged back to the stone wall.


	18. Bloody Battle

Author's Note: The POV of Natalya Larus is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Natalya Larus, District 9**

I think I've finally found his trail.

In a manner of speaking, at least. There's not actually a physical trail, per se, but I swear I caught a glance of him by the crater with the giant tree. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't just one of my imaginings of him again.

So, if there's a chance of finding Vahn, it's completely worth the trek.

Not to say it won't be a difficult trek. While I did receive some water from sponsors, I'm still running on that one little apple from yesterday. My hands have already been generously graced with callouses, cuts, and various abrasions from the mountainside. My muscles are sore from all the climbing I've already done. My eyes are dull from lack of sleep. My hair is greasy, and I feel filthy and miserable.

But I finally have the opportunity to make everything better. My brother is down there waiting for me. And I am not going to disappoint him.

I start down the mountainside, with nothing but fantasies of our blessed reunion to keep me going.

I've already worked out a million ways it could happen. He could already detect me, and I could run straight into his open arms. Maybe he won't see me, and I can surprise him with a sneaky kiss to the cheek. Maybe we'll both wander around the tree before suddenly running into each other. Maybe we can finally get married after that.

Whatever the case, I am finally going to be with my brother.

And that's more than enough to keep me going.

**Eston von Bock, District 7**

Still watching nervously as Vahn approaches, I hear Amer return with Raivis. I don't dare to turn my head to check on them. Vahn's far too close for my liking, and, illogical as it is, I'm afraid he'll suddenly catch up and attack if I let him out of my sight.

"Eston, step back a little."

I don't have to turn my head to see Amer overtaking my position. Not quite sure how else to respond, I do as he says and find myself standing right next to Raivis.

He's shaking just about as much as he was when Vahn first threatened to chop his fingers off, and clutching at his upper arms to keep himself from moving elsewhere.

He's not going to be doing any fighting today.

It'll be up to Amer and me. Well, considering my... "aptitude" in fighting, it's pretty much going to be up to Amer. It's already too late for me to set up a trap or something to help, and, uh...

As Vahn steps within two metres of us, I subconsciously retreat a few paces.

Did I seriously stand up to _this _guy the other night? Maybe he just doesn't seem quite as scary when you can't really see him...

I force myself to take a deep breath when Vahn stops at the other side of the crater ridge. His gaze goes over all of us for a few moments before resting on Amer and his shining glove. The tension of the silence is nearly enough to drive me mad.

"You're not going to hurt them," Amer finally informs Vahn.

"Vee shall see," Vahn replies before putting a foot on the crater ridge and launching himself toward Amer.

With a blinding flash of metal, Amer brings his armoured hand up to block the first pickaxe swipe. Vahn doesn't take long enough to recover and easily dodges Amer's counterattack. Vahn swings his weapon back around, getting a score across the very bottom of Amer's neck before my ally pulls away. Amer launches his claws toward Vahn's midsection and finally gets in a hit, scattering blood across the leaves below. Vahn recoils but puts his pickaxe back in motion to skewer Amer through the head. Amer ducks, not losing so much as his cowlick. The 9 can't quite seem to slow his weapon back down, and Amer takes the opportunity to kick the other tribute back against the crater wall. Vahn's lower back gives an audible crunch when it makes contact with the top of the ridge, but he doesn't collapse in any way. He's hurt enough to not get in another swipe, so Amer steps forward to get another set of bloody ridges across Vahn's torso.

Vahn finally pulls himself back upright and brings his pickaxe straight down for Amer's head. Amer bends backward to dodge, but ends up with a long wound down his stomach. Almost falling backward, he stumbles, giving Vahn more than enough time to send his pickaxe down into Amer's left shoulder. The blade penetrates through about four centimetres of flesh before Amer's knees buckle, sending him to the ground and out of the weapon's path.

Vahn gears up, lifting the pickaxe over his head and bringing it down hard. Amer rolls out of the way and attempts to get back to his feet. He hasn't managed it by the time Vahn pulls the blade out of the ground.

Before I know I'm even moving toward them, I'm at the scene, grabbing Amer's wrists frantically and tugging him upward. His feet finally take his weight again, and I let go, the momentum making me stumble backward.

I don't stumble quite out of Vahn's range.

There's a shallow cut spanning my chest before I know to dodge, and the suddenness and unexpectedness of the pain makes me jump backward with a yelp and not land on my feet quite right. With a wince-worthy ankle twist, I'm facefirst in the dirt.

**Amer Jones, District 10**

I only just see Eston fall before Vahn's back after me. Heaving for breath, I put up both arms to block and push back when his pickaxe lands. It's not enough force to make Vahn stumble, but at least I get to keep my balance. Vahn pulls his weapon back, and I get my claws through his upper chest before he swings again.

I can't dodge in time and get a blade through the middle of my back for it.

Gasping in pain, I stand there dumbly as he pulls the pickaxe back out. I don't move still when he starts the next swing. Once it finally pierces the side of my head, I'm suddenly unfrozen, and I take quick steps backward. The pickaxe tip drags against the side of my head in my retreat.

My time in the Training Centre having flown out the window, I get back into the fight swinging blindly. The blood pouring from my head wound stings my eye, and no part of me fully knows what's going on. A wound here, a scratch there, finally getting some steel through the enemy's flesh instead of just mine.

Somewhere along the line, the wounds suddenly stop opening everywhere. Confused, I take a second to wipe the blood out of my eye and look.

Vahn is taking a moment to regain his breath. I don't know exactly how much damage I've taken, but I'm absolutely sure it's more than he has. He's resting because he knows there's not much I can do about it.

I decide to prove him wrong.

With a grunt of a battle cry, I launch myself forward, ending up driving my claws through his face. He recoils to the side, and, suddenly seeing my chance, I grab his shirt collar with one hand and swing for his throat with my other. I just start to draw blood before he fights back, shoving one end of his weapon into an already-existing wound. Unconsciously, I draw back. He comes after me, but there's already a vague sputtering in his breathing. I can tell he's not aiming for my head this time, so I don't bother at all to dodge. I just get my weapon back at his throat.

My claws glide through, and he finally stumbles back, dropping the pickaxe, which slides back out of my torso. Vahn collapses to the ground, grasping his throat to try and stop the bleeding, but he doesn't succeed. His cannon fires.

I stagger away, pain building as my body registers the fight is over. I almost slip on the huge amount of blood that's been spilt, but manage to get to the crater edge and lean against the wall.

I black out.


	19. Look to the Sky

Author's Note: The POV's of Igris Kirkland and Spain Carriedo are the same as they were in the original story.

Also, I kicked out a few POV's from the storyline, but it's just what happened with the Careers, Elevens, and a certain mutt. Hopefully you don't need to be reminded of that.

* * *

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

The waves continue to lap onto the shore, even though there's still no wind to stir them. Fronce and I are sitting nearer the other edge of the crater, in the sand, having a late lunch. Mostly because we had to wait a bit to get more unbrackish water.

The donations have been coming in more slowly today. We're still not going hungry or anything, but we're no longer finishing meals with satisfyingly full stomachs.

I guess this is only going to get worse as the Games go on. Even with my family's funds, we can't keep this up forever.

So, in a day or two, we're going to try and get all of our own food. We'll leave the water to the sponsors—I'm sure they all can keep up with that much, not to mention I haven't seen anything but brine thus far. I wonder if the Gamemakers are trying to dehydrate us to death instead of starve us to death this time. Just to give things a twist.

We finish up our makeshift sandwiches—that is, half-loaves of bread with holes dug out and filled with a few slices of turkey and cheese. Mine has a few plants and things in addition, but Fronce hasn't dared to put any in his.

He hasn't been taking chances with much of anything. No berries, no plants—although I _assure _him that what I've picked isn't poisonous, he just won't believe me—nothing we've found here.

He's not like his usual self in that aspect, but he's starting to quit moping around about China. Good. It's definitely not going to be beneficial for him in any respect. I may have to put up with his arguments a bit more, but at this point it's practically as entertaining to me as it used to be for him.

There's not much to do out here. Sleep. Cook. Bicker. Hope you don't get killed. That's about it. I could probably ask for an entertaining donation, but it'd be a waste of money. I'd like to save my sponsors' funds for more necessary things.

Speaking of which, another parachute is dropping down now. Fronce, occupied taking the last few bites of his sandwich, doesn't quite notice until I've already picked it up.

"What's that?" he says after swallowing a mouthful.

I look at the donation. It's a little, white package, about the size of those stupid little silica packets you get in store-bought things, the kind with "DO NOT SWALLOW" stamped all over them.

Instead of that repetitive phrase, however, this packet is marked only with three capital letters. It takes me a second to figure out what they stand for

"Just one of my rich-boy treats," I respond dismissively, putting the packet in my jacket pocket before Fronce can see it. "Don't try to take it or I'll kill you."

Fronce puts up his hands. "Fine, fine. Who am I to make you share your supplies like any other ally?"

"I'll tell you who you are: a git with nothing better to do than nag other people about their quirks."

And, just like that, we're back to arguing.

Oh, joy.

**Spain Carriedo, District 3**

Looks like that life-and-death situation didn't change anything after all.

Well, I'm a little more paranoid of crazy mutts running around, but that doesn't really count. Lovi's acting the same, like she never said anything yesterday, and I'm... probably acting the same as before, too.

Right now, we're just hanging out around the trees. We've gotten through almost half of the tomatoes, but that means we still have more than half left to eat. It may not be the most varied diet, but I'd rather eat tomatoes over and over than go out and get mauled by some waiting mutt.

Yeah, our supplies aren't going to last forever. But we may as well take advantage of them while we can.

"Hahahahaha!" I look around in confusion at the sudden laughter, still weirded out by the time it starts being stifled. It sounded like Lovi, and it sounded like it came from the direction she was going to in order to... do the opposite of eat. She certainly doesn't sound endangered, and I really don't want to walk in on her in an awkward moment, but this is the Hunger Games. I'd much rather embarrass her than risk her life.

Putting my still-thankfully-unused hammer in my jacket pocket, I get to my feet and start slowly toward Lovi. All the leaf-rustling I'm doing in the process would warn an attacker, anyway, so I call her name.

"Uh—yeah, one sec!" she responds quickly, and I stop in my tracks. I'm just being paranoid. She's still fine. While I have no idea why she would find reason to laugh at this particular time, she _is_ pretty strange.

But she still doesn't come around, leaving me befuddled. Is it really her? Is there some jabberjay messing with me instead? I don't see how laughing could be the best way to do that—not only would a scream bring me running faster, that'd be much easier to make than a laugh with the audio software.

So it has to be her. There's no other possibility.

I wait for a minute, but she still doesn't progress toward me.

What's going _on_?

Keeping my gaze high in case I walk in on something I shouldn't, I step over toward Lovi. She soon comes into view; she's fully clothed, sitting, back toward me, hunched over.

"Lovi?" I call uncertainly. "What are you doing?"

Lovi jumps a little bit, glances back at me quickly, and turns back around. "Nothing," she says quickly, her voice a bit muffled.

"Lovi?" I walk over to her side, and she hunches more. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing!"

"Lovi."

She moans, like she really doesn't want to reveal her find, and straightens up. Clutched tightly to her chest is the bag of beef jerky.

"You found—"

"Yeah, I found it. So it's mine," she interrupts, grasping the bag tighter.

"Well... I found the tomatoes, so I could claim all of them," I counter.

"Fine," she scoffs, "I don't need your stinking tomatoes. Just don't take my jerky." She finishes by shoving what I assume is not her first piece of jerky today in her mouth.

"Okay..."

This girl's crazy.

**Natalya Larus, District 9**

_He's not here!_

I kick the tree trunk in my frustration—a little too hard, apparently, since I lose my balance and fall onto my rear.

But I know I saw him here! Where on earth did he go?

With a growl, I dig my fingernails into the roots below.

I can't believe this! It's like he's trying to avoid me or something! But he wouldn't dare do that—he knows he's in love with me, even if he's hesitant to admit it.

I hear the anthem start up.

From here, the sky is blocked by the tree leaves. I'm so exhausted from all of this hungry climbing I almost don't bother to move. But I do. Still clenching my fists in anger, I scoot away to see the death toll in the sky.

The first face to stare down at me is Vahn's.

I look back at it without comprehension. What is his face doing up _there_? Not that I object to seeing it for the first time in a while, but... That's where they're supposed to show the faces of the dead. Why would they put him there?

It's obviously a mistake. Some Gamemaker is going to get fired tonight.

Another face flashes up, that girl who was always being stalked by her district partner, before the seal returns.

Kind of odd, how the girl's face and my brother's were up there for about the same amount of time. I would think they'd snatch Vahn's right back out of the sky as soon as they realised their mistake. Unless he's a-actually deaad.

But he isn't. He can't be. There was just a mistake, that's all—!


	20. Searching

Author's Note: I cut out the POV of Greis Karpusi concerning her flight from the volcano, but the situation has not changed.

* * *

**Amer Jones, District 10**

I wake up to moonlight. The silvery glow is all I'm aware of until my senses gradually strengthen. I can make out that my shirt has been refurbished into a set of soaked bandages. I'm propped up against the crater wall, the stone digging into my back but not into a wound.

And speaking of wounds, my sense of pain is coming back about now. Any hopes I may have had of moving are shattered. It's too much just sitting. Even twisting my head somehow shifts some other muscle too close to a gash, and the shock of pain follows without hesitation.

I decide to just observe from this position.

I can just make out Eston leaning against a tree trunk, makeshift bandage tied around his chest at an angle. It takes me a minute to realise he's fallen asleep.

I can only just see Raivis in the corner of my eye, and out of worry I decide to go ahead and risk the pain to actually look at him.

He's curled up in a seated position, arms wrapped firmly around his knees. He's not moving any more than the very rare blink of his wide eyes. He's staring just a little to my side at nothing in particular, and from the looks of the tiny blood splatter still across his cheek, I'm guessing he hasn't moved at all since the battle.

I swallow a few times, not confident in my ability to speak but going to attempt it anyway. "Are you okay?" I call weakly, the words mushing together a bit.

Raivis jumps like a spring just let go, and his gaze flicks over to me at the same.

"Didn't mean to scare you," I respond groggily, wondering if the pain has given me a grimace. I make sure to smile at him.

He's not comforted. He just returns to his wadded-up position and keeps his bewildered stare on my face.

"Really, you okay?" I ask again. He still doesn't reply.

Distress turns my voice a little too hard. "Can you answer me?"

His jaw finally starts going, without sound, until he stammers out, "Ah-ah-ah, y-y-yes! I-I-I-I can. I, uh, uh, I-I'm okay..."

"Good," I mumble, suddenly feeling drowsy again.

I'm hesitant to close my eyes. Who's going to keep watch? But then, what would I do if someone shows up? Try some subliminal message to make them go away? Not going to be very helpful.

My eyelids finally slide shut, and I nod off again.

**Sve Oxenstierna, District 11**

My mind still a shocked blank, my body moves of its own accord when I enter the crater with the tree. My eyes look on as I slowly progress and pick out a girl's figure long before my mind registers it.

It's Natalya. I forget her district. She's holding a knife threateningly but not attacking. My sword finds itself unsheathed anyway.

"What do you want?" she growls, voice raw with thirst.

I look back at her blankly without a response. The only thing it seems I've ever lived for is gone. I can't honestly say I want anything.

"Creep," she mutters under her breath, looking ready to kill me but not moving. I'm not sure that she can.

And suddenly I remember her district. 9. The same as the first face in the sky last night.

Is that why she won't attack? She must be devastated to have him gone.

"Your brother," my mouth says.

Natalya grits her teeth. "What about him?"

Surprised somewhere deep down, I raise my eyebrows a bit. "The death toll...?"

"Was wrong," she finishes in rage.

I wonder. The Gamemakers could slip up, but I highly doubt it.

I wish I could pretend Finni's still alive. But she died... Right there in my arms... And I could do nothing... Nothing...

I'm not sure when I sat down, but I'm that way now.

Natalya still looks at me spitefully. I don't really care. She can hate me if she wants. She's just another tribute. Another one of us to be killed for the Capitol.

I hate the Capitol. I've always known they did this to people, but… When my own love was ripped away from the living world in front of my own eyes… I know.

They need to pay. They need to be taken down.

But there's nothing I can do about it. Nothing.

I'm nothing to them. I have nothing on them.

I have nothing.

…

I am nothing.

**Lovi Vargas, District 3**

I'm finishing my jerky breakfast when Spain suddenly notices something.

"Have these claw marks always been here?"

Crinkling the plastic jerky bag's top, I look over at a set of scores across a nearby tree trunk.

"How would I know?" I respond.

Spain just shrugs, still looking at the chipped bark. "Don't know, but whether it was here or not, we should probably move."

I huff, displeased. "How far?"

"Not too far, I don't think," he replies, checking other trunks to see if there are any other signs. "Just out of this... whatever's territory."

"Fine." I tuck the bag of jerky under my arm. "Well? Are we moving or not?" I snap after he hesitates. He shakes his head like he's trying to dispel an insect from it.

"Right, right. Let's go."

With a "humph", I lead, pushing ferns and branches out of my way. I don't know where I'm going, but he doesn't, either, so I might as well be in front.

The jungle would be kind of cool if it weren't... well... so jungle-y. There are all kinds of trees with pretty leaves, and tons of colourful flowers at every turn. Even the bugs look cool. Still, um... weird—not scary, obviously, because I'm not scared of anything—but with interesting blotches crisscrossing their exoskeletons.

But it's still all dirty and smelly and way too humid and not enough food and...

"Are those mangoes?"

In response, Spain pauses behind me and looks at the trees. "What?"

"Right there!" I demand, jabbing my index finger at the bright fruit far over my head. He follows my gaze slowly—so slowly I've already started climbing by the time he finds what I'm going for.

"Uh—hey, Lovi!" he starts, closing the gap between him and the tree. "Maybe you should be a little more careful going up that thing—"

"I know how to climb a stinking tree!" I interrupt, the bark flying by under me. "You just want me to slow down so _you_ can take the mangoes!"

"Eh? No, that's not it..."

"Hmph!" I continue scaling the branches until I've finally gotten to the level bearing fruit. Scooting over bark rough enough to give me a few splinters, I'm too tantalised by the prospect of a new food in my diet to care. I shimmy out near the end of the branch, which is almost as thick as I am, and reach out for a mango. My fingers wrap around the bulb of a fruit, and I pluck it away from the tree. Practically drooling, I take a bite. Yup. Definitely mango.

"It's so yummy," I mumble through joyous mouthfuls, continuing to shove the fruit in my mouth.

"Don't eat too fast or you'll get yourself sick," calls my ally, sounding closer to me than he was a minute ago. Juice dribbling down my chin, I take a second to look down. He's started up the tree, but he hasn't gotten as far up as me.

"I'm _not _gonna get sick," I protest, chewing away the last of the first mango. I drop the remainder carelessly and search for the next fruit.

After a minute of climbing, I've gotten four more mangoes and two more branches up. Clutching the contraband to my centre, I shuffle myself backward toward the trunk with just my legs.

I don't notice I'm listing to one side until I'm suddenly sideways. There's only a thudding heartbeat's time before I lose connection with the tree.

Screaming before I know what's happening, I release one arm's worth of fruit and flail the arm around wildly to try and locate something to keep me aloft. I find it soon.

It's covered in thorns.

A gash rips through my hand before the pain forces me to let go. Having lost my grip on the other mangoes somewhere along the line, I stretch both arms out in a new surge of panic, and I finally come in contact with something smoother.

Feet just a metre off the ground, I dangle for a few moments trying to catch my breath, which was snatched away from me by both panic and tears.

"Are you okay?" pants Spain. His voice seems peculiarly close until I realise he's right next to me—what I grabbed was his outstretched arm.

Gulping, I nod a confirmation before he reels me in, helping me onto the same low branch as him.


	21. Not Supposed to Happen

**Spain Carriedo, District 3**

Lovi has to sit next to me silently for a while before she can recover from the scare. In a few minutes, the tears are finally gone from her face, and she's stopped breathing so hard, although she's still shaking a little.

"So," I start slowly, "want to go and pick up the ones you dropped?"

She looks down past her feet for a second before agreeing. Quickly, before I can decipher what she's doing, she starts clambering down the branches, yelling, "Finder's keepers!"

Limbs still sped by adrenaline, she touches ground a good while before I do. She already has one mango in her undamaged hand by the time I spot one of the fallen fruits. I jog the two metres to the thing—the competition probably wasn't meant to be friendly, but I need some sort of amusement—and pick it up. When I check, Lovi's still bobbing her head around to try and locate another one.

I command my gaze back to the ground. It's actually rather hard to spot the mangoes on the forest floor; while they're very bright, so is every one of the numerous flowers and insects dotting the ground. I shift my focus from colour to shape, and it's much easier to skim over things now. Although the sunlight is dimmed by layers of foliage by the time it pushes its way to the ground, it still highlights round things much differently than flat ones.

I finally see another of the mangoes. Plucking it up, I rub some soil off it with my shirt before announcing to Lovi I found another one.

"Just one left," I continue cheerfully, playfully threatening, "I'm definitely going to find it before you!"

She doesn't snap back with anything. Maybe she's not much for trash talking?

I gather both of the mangoes in the crook of my elbow before looking up, away from the ground. Lovi, to my surprise, is sitting.

"You give up?" I call. "Or did you find the other one already?"

Lovi, clutching her jumper tightly around her, cranes her neck to look at me. "Haven't found it," she finally responds bluntly.

"Are you... cold?" I ask quizzically, wondering why else she would be snuggling so much into her jacket.

"Of course I'm cold! It's l-like f-five degress out h-here!" she snaps.

"No, it's not," I respond slowly, confused at how she could confuse this sauna for five degrees. "You okay, Lovi?" I start, stepping toward her.

"Uh-huh," she replies, not sounding so sure any more.

I put a hand to her forehead. She growls uncomfortably and pulls away, but not before my fingertips register cold.

Something's not right here... If anything, she should have a high temperature, right?

"Hey—" I register her shivering weakening and put my hands to her shoulders to look into her face—"hang on! Um..." I look around, like something labelled "_This will help her!_" is about to appear out of mid-air.

Nothing shows up before she starts hyperventilating.

Nothing shows up before she stops shaking.

And nothing shows up before a cannon fires.

**Eston von Bock, District 7**

Somewhere far past the first light of dawn, I find out I must have fallen asleep. I wasn't planning to, since no one else here is in condition to protect the alliance—truthfully, I'm not the best candidate, either, but I'm not devoid of a good portion of my blood or my sanity, and I'm in possession of a pickaxe now.

It's kind of weird, to be handling this weapon. To be its owner, when you used to be the property of its last owner. But, however it feels like, it's a weapon, and I'm in the Hunger Games. Beneficial.

Suppressing the urge to scratch at the still-tender wound across my chest, I instead focus on the surroundings. Nothing in the jungle has come toward us—at least, nothing's close enough to see—Amer's still asleep, and Raivis is still in the same wound-up sitting position. The youngest-looking of the alliance is apparently as awake as I am, if less active. Stretching my legs but not my arms, I walk over toward him.

"Morning."

Jerking, he looks up at me, and I notice something I didn't see cleaning up last night: a tiny bit of blood flicked across his cheek.

"Got something right here," I say like it's a piece of food, poitning at the corresponding position on my face. Raivis slowly reaches up and wipes it away.

"Got it," I inform him, sitting down next to him. I hunt down our basket of apples with my gaze—it's only about a foot away from here, and thankfully untouched by the unreal amount of blood exchanged— before settling down a little.

"You didn't get hurt at all, right?" I start, wanting some sort of conversation from this guy.

"No," he mumbles. "I just w-watched."

I nod neutrally before he turns his head toward me.

"How did you get yourself t-to go and help?" he whispers.

I meet his gaze blankly. "No idea," I answer truthfully.

Raivis looks back down. "I wish I could have done something..."

I put my arm across his shoulders. He cringes a little, but doesn't have any other negative reaction. "It's okay," I assure him, trying to ignore the pain building in my wound from the raising of my arm. "He may not be in the best condition, but he still got out alive. And he doesn't have to worry about you being hurt. That's a huge thing for him."

Raivis nods shakily, and we just sit there lazily for a while.

"Nurgh..."

Raivis flinches at the sound, and we both look up to see Amer shifting, eyes still closed.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" I call, standing, secretly grateful to let my arm back down.

Amer makes a few more drowsy sounds before his eyes unclose slowly. "Moorin?" he calls back, clenching his eyes back shut and reopening them before looking around.

"Still don't think we're having breakfast today," I inform him. "But lunch doesn't seem too far off, anyway."

"Good," he mumbles before shifting into a more upright sitting position.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, putting my hands in my jean pockets.

"Eh? Me? Uh... Not too bad, I guess," replies Amer, voice slowly becoming more coherent. "Pretty crappy, but not too bad. How about you?"

"Better than you," I half-laugh, looking at my shoes for a second. "Just one cut, not too deep. Got some soil in it, but I disinfected it. Oh, we're out of disinfectant, by the way."

"Mmm-kay," Amer responds, stretching his shoulders a little and cringing all the way. "And you? Raivis?"

At the mention of his name, Raivis, whose tremors have crept back one way or the other, jumps. "A-a-ah?" he stammers, obviously behind in the conversation.

"Are you still feeling all right?" Amer repeats.

"U-u-uh, ye-yeah?" Upon receiving an odd look from Amer, Raivis adds, "M-m-maybe?"

"Wha?" Amer starts. "Why are you changing your mind? Just—just tell me if you're okay!"

"Uh-b-buh, uh, yes, s-sir!" Raivis blathers, squirming like he's just been called on in a pop quiz. "I, uh, I-I-I-I-I..." He seems too frantic all of a sudden to come up with an answer, which makes him more frantic.

"Hey, Raivis," I start, interrupting and resting a hand on his shoulder. "You want to grab our canteens? They're just a few metres along the side of the wall."

"Yeah!" he gasps, hurrying to his feet. "Canteens—th-those are good." He scrambles off, leaving Amer to watch in absolute confusion.

I stride back over to the most physically damaged of us, who's still staring off where Raivis just left.

"Is it just me, or is he acting really weird today?" he starts.

"He definitely is," I concede, taking a seat.

Amer's bewildered expression hasn't faded. "But... _Why_?"

I meet his gaze for a second before looking away with a sigh. "Isn't it obvious?" I mutter, dropping my voice. "He's scared of you."

Amer's eyes turn wide as saucers. "What?" he responds incredulously. "But—how—how could he be afraid of me?"

"Well..." I lace my fingers together. "You know he was scared to death of Big Bad Vahn."

"Yeah..." he responds, not knowing how this ties in at all.

"Well, that was mostly because Vahn was way stronger than us—the strongest person in the little sphere our world has become here. And, well, you just proved you're stronger than Vahn."

"But-but," Amer stammers, trying to defend himself before I'm through.

"Amer," I stop him. "Think about it. Seeing you, drenched in blood, standing over the corpse of who used to be the strongest person in the world... Cripes, man, that's enough to give _me _a few minutes of shudders. But _that _kid?" I thumb over in the direction Raivis left and shake my head.

Amer stares, horrified, as the information sinks in.

"But-but-but he's not supposed to be scared of me!" he cries hoarsely. "How—wha—I..." He trails off into disbelieving gasps, sounding almost about to cry.

"Relax," I say even more quietly, knowing Raivis must have already gotten ahold of our canteens. "You just have to remind him of that. Tactfully, mind you, but it shouldn't be that hard. He knows what kind of person you are, even if he's been blinded to it a little bit. Just talk to him, and things ought to work themselves out eventually."

"Yeah?" Amer takes a deep breath and lets it out.

"Yeah." We sit in silence for a moment.

And then we hear Raivis scream.


	22. Terror

**Raivis Lithu, District 12**

_"We're not alone!"_ I scream, sprinting back to the alliance, clutching the canteens to my chest like it's vital for maintaining my speed. My feet slip a little on the not-so-hard-packed soil but manage to reach our campsite without falling.

"We're not alone," I gasp again, stutters taken away by my lack of breath. "We have to—have to get out of here!"

Without waiting for a response, I stumble over to the crater wall—incidentally, about as far away from Amer as I can subconsciously manage—and try to get myself over without letting go of the canteens. It doesn't work very well.

"Hang on, hang on," Eston starts, and I feel a hand on my shoulder. "How many people?"

"I-I don't know!" I babble. "J-j-j-just, I-I-I saw... There were... There w-were... I-I-I d-don't know how m-many! H-h-hordes!" I continue, voice rising to a wail. "W-w-w-w-we j-j-just have to g-g-get out of h-here!" I attempt getting over the wall without use of my arms a few more times, but no matter how hard I try or how frantic I get, I can't manage it. In desperation, I turn back around and force the cargo into Eston's arms. Scrabbling at the top of the wall, I pull myself onto it.

Someone grabs my ankle.

I yelp, overwhelmed by the thought someone I saw has already caught up!

"Calm down!" It takes me a second to register Eston's voice and realise he's actually the one who stopped me. "We're not going anywhere right now."

"Wh-wh-wh-wh-why?" I gasp, shaking at the thought of giving the others time to catch up.

Eston nods over in Amer's direction, and I force myself to take a quick glance.

"He's asleep," Eston informs me. "And even if he weren't, we couldn't just leave him to fend for himself. He's too badly injured. If we're leaving, we have to carry him out with us."

I nervously drag my gaze back to the tribute hunched back against the crater wall.

"B-b-b-b-but we have to g-g-get out of h-h-here _now_!"

Eston sighs. "Raivis, I want you to do something for me."

"Huh? N-n-now?"

"Yes, now."

I stare out at the jungle, not believing anything good could come from hesitating. Other tributes are out there! Other tributes that want to kill us! That will kill us! They'll trap me and torture me and kill me a-a-and—

"Close your eyes."

"Wh-wh-what?" I stutter, looking back at Eston.

"Close your eyes," he repeats.

I moan a tiny bit but comply.

"Now take a deep breath."

Still befuddled, I inhale a little.

"A deeper breath."

I try again. After another few breaths, he finally tells me I'm allowed to open my eyes again.

"Now, think and tell me—how many people did you_ see_?"

"U-um..." I look down to keep myself from staring out at the trees and vines. Racking my memory, I finally answer. "A-at least one..."

"Uh-huh." His disapproving tone makes me cringe a little.

"B-b-b-but you know there could be more!" I defend.

Eston nods, glancing back behind. "It's definitely not a bad idea to move, if you're sure you saw someone." I nod fervently. "So wait there for a second."

Eston sets the canteens down on the ledge and climbs up. Relieved, I shuffle over to the other side. Finally! We can get away from them!

"Not so fast!" I freeze, rolling my eyeballs over to see Eston still kneeling on the wall. He has Amer's arm in his grasp. "We have to help him over, remember?"

I squirm, stepping over despairingly. Eston sighs softly to himself as I just sit and stare blankly at Amer.

"Take the other arm," he instructs quietly, whether from tiredness or suppressing frustration I don't know.

I scoot over a little and stare down at Amer's other hand, his left one.

"The sooner you help, the sooner we move."

I snap my gaze back up to the forest, suddenly realising how much closer they could have gotten, before forcing myself to reach down and take Amer's wrist.

It's okay, it's okay... I-I have to do this to get out of here. And if I don't, they'll catch up a-and find me and get a-all their pointy weapons out a-and—

"Raivis."

Cringing and knowing I'm going too slow, I finally start tugging. Amer's body slides up the side of the crater wall too slowly for when every second could bring a rash of tributes ready to dismember—!

I make myself pull harder, and we finally get him onto the wall. Pulse swishing past my ears I keep looking back over at the trees.

"Raivis?"

Twisting my neck around, I see Eston looking at me, and for the most terrifying second I think Amer is standing up next to him. Then I realise he's only being held up by an arm pulled over Eston's shoulders.

"Take his other arm," Eston instructs, not quite keeping the impatience out of his voice. I scurry over but hesitate as Amer's figure slowly slouches to the side.

"We're not going to get out of here if you don't do this!" Eston says exasperatedly. I snap my gaze back to the forest and swear I see leaves quivering. With a whimper, I finally put Amer's other arm over my shoulders.

The sudden reek of blood, covering his person but not as strong until now, makes me try to step away. Eston gives me a stern look, and I shrink, trying to breathe through my mouth. The smell doesn't recede in the slightest.

We finally start clockwise around the mountain. As hard as I try, I can't ignore the flaky, crusted blood coating the hand under mine, and the smell only keeps getting worse.

There's just so much blood... S-so much... How could there not be, after what happened?

"You okay?"

I shakily look over toward Eston before I notice my breathing, although not laboured, has gotten louder.

"U-u-u-u-u-u-uh..." I squirm under the weight of Amer's arm. "I-I-I-I-I'm doing a-all right," I say, trying not to flick a worried glance to Amer's face to see if he's awake.

Oh, don't let him be awake... I don't want him to be awake... Th-the last time someone was a-awake when I didn't want him to b-be..." The memory of my finger getting chopped off makes my knees lock, and I've gone back to shaking so hard I almost fall over.

But then I remember tributes are still after us.

Attempting to take a deep breath and failing, I force myself to keep going forward. It's harder to keep Amer's arm over my shoulders when I'm vibrating it off, but I manage.

"Are you really that scared of him?"

Suddenly surprised by the voice, I jump and look over toward the source stupefied. It takes a second more of stumble-walking before I can register the words.

"O-of him?" I echo. "Y-y-yes! I-I-I-I-I..." Losing my words for a second, I breathe hard a few times before continuing, "H-how wcould I n-not be? He-he-he-he m-m-murdered a person_ r-right in front of m-me_!"

The arm over my shoulders tenses.

Numb with fear, I stop breathing and turn in slow motion to behold Amer's face.

He's not asleep any more.

A-a-and now I've made him mad!

"I-I-I-I-I-I'm s-sorry!" I splutter, voice high-pitched. "I-I-I-I-I-I d-didn't mean to-to-to-to o-offend you!" I finish in a squeak.

He starts to roll his head toward me, but I can't stand to watch. Breathing too fast to get much air in, I just pick up the pace, although my quaking feet don't want to go fast.

I feel Amer's gaze on me, and something in my head shrieks. I end up going a little faster, somehow thinking I can outrun the person halfway strapped to my back.

My toes catch on one of the rocks.

Not thinking straight enough to correct myself, I can only yelp as I suddenly let go of Amer and start tumbling. Scrabbling frantically at the rocks, I find no handhold. I try for footholds, but only manage to get my foot stuck in a crevice long enough to twist before dislodging.

I'm going to die! I'm going to fall down and break my head open and die!

I'm too busy screaming in terror to register the hand around my ankle for a good few moments.

Breathing heavily, a few frenzied tears dropping off my face, I struggle to look up.

Eston in climbing down a few steps, and he finally flips me right-side-up. Too shocked and shaking too hard to stand on my own, I lean on him.

I'm this way for about a minute before I finally see Amer splayed across the rocks, one hand clenched around a rock, the other hanging over the side. The one that saved me.

And then I see the little pool of blood gathering under his back. I hear his groaning.

"I-I-I'm so sorry!' I wail, knowing that only happened because I dragged him down. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." I repeat it a few more times before I realise Eston's hand is clamped over my mouth.

"Don't apologise," finally comes a grunt. I stare wide-eyed down at Amer as he continues. "I did that because _I _wanted to help you, okay?" He closes his eyes and exhales while Eston uses up the rest of his shirt patching up the new wounds.

Since the side of the mountain is far from safe, we decide to pack up and keep going. Amer's arm once again over my shoulders, I limp onward, not shaking so hard anymore.


	23. Let the Rain Fall Down

Author's Note: I love your reviews and I think it's amazing how many this fic has already. But here's the thing: I love reviews, don't like swearing. Please try not to taint the joy I get from your feedback.

The POV of Greis Karpusi is the same as it was in the original story. Although the POV of Ania Jerume has been removed, her circumstances regarding the rockslide have not changed.

* * *

**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

Ice-cold rain does not feel pleasant beating on a burn wound.

Actually, nothing about my burn wound feels pleasant. I got some medicine donated, thankfully, but it's doing a lot more in the healing area than the stopping-it-from-hurting area. This'll work out better in the end, I know, but my arm _really_ hurts.

Things aren't looking all that peachy otherwise, either. I have nothing to protect me from the rain other than my jacket's cloth hood and some rather heavy backpacks. I didn't grab any umbrellas or anything because I was a lot more concerned about food, water, and medical supplies.

I don't have to worry about water right now, that's for sure. It's coming down in buckets, and I can't see enough to climb around.

Not that I could, anyway. The mountainside's too slippery for me to do anything but curl up and hope no one finds me. I _had _to lose my shelter right before the rainstorm, didn't I? I guess the Capitol must find my sudden burst of bad luck amusing.

Or, I'm assuming it's luck. The volcano blast was definitely aimed at me, since the crater was put too far down on the mountain to do damage elsewhere. The rain, though? It could be for anyone and everyone. And it probably is. Just to spice things up a little, I guess.

I squint as more raindrops barrage my eyes and put a hand by my forehead to protect them. Worst of all of this, I'll have to take watch, since all of this water pounding on the rocks will keep me from hearing anything sneaking up on me.

Although it would definitely be hard for anyone to sneak up on me here. More likely, they'd try, slip, and skid down and crash into me. In which case, I'll have my weapon ready to dig in.

So, things aren't great right now, but they're not too awfully bad.

We'll just have to see what happens next.

**Amer Jones, District 10**

I'm really glad for the rain. We don't have to worry about drinking too much of our canteens and running out of water. We get the closest thing we've had to a shower in... who knows how long. Haven't had enough water to use it for anything but drinking.

And now I can finally get all this blood washed off of me. I'm in no condition to scrub it off myself—especially after using the last bit of my strength to catch Raivis—but Eston's fine with easing off my soaked makeshift bandages and reusing them as washcloths for me.

It's great to see the diluted red puddle at my feet stream away as Eston works carefully around my wounds. All the old blood just rushing off into the distance, where it never has to trouble me again.

Of course, what I did to earn that will never go away, but... I mean...

I keep staring down at the gradually lightening red-pink colour trickling away. A lot of that was from my own wounds that I got from protecting my friends. Nothing wrong with that. But some of that blood was Vahn's, who I murdered for my friends. Is it justified? Was any of the harm I've caused justified? I'd like to think so.

I exhale loudly. I don't really know. I'll just confuse myself if I try to figure it out.

And, somehow, I'm afraid of finding out, anyway.

Eston finishes with my arms and torso before announcing he's going to let my bandages wash out as best they can and put them back on. I nod, starting to feel sleepy again despite the freezing rain. I close my eyes.

The rain makes a nice sound hitting the rocks. Maybe that's part of the reason I'm drowsy again. Lulling me to sleep or something. It has a nice non-smell to it, too.

...Hey. If I get all this blood washed off, Raivis shouldn't be as scared, right? I mean, that's what was scaring him mostly. It had to have been, since I'm not really a scary person.

Unless I'm killing someone.

The only cringing I can do is clenching my eyes closed tighter.

E-even then, that's okay. He shouldn't have to see me kill again! At least, if some huge miracle happens and we don't run into anyone else.

I sigh again as my thoughts start to get fuzzy.

Hopefully that could happen. Hopefully...

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

I break off a piece of bread for our breakfast. Tucking the rest back in its parachute—glad we kept these things; otherwise everything would have gotten _more _soaked in yesterday's downpour—I rip the piece in half and hand one bit to Fronce. We eat in silence.

There's not much to talk about. Nothing at all happened until the rain, and even that's not good for conversation. It was cold. It soaked some things. It almost flooded the crater. Not much more to say about it. As easy as that topic is to exhaust, it hasn't been much harder to blow through everything else. There are only so many different insults you can lob at a person with whom you've only been in contact a few hours a week. Apparently we've gone through all of those by now, too. And we really feel no reason to talk about our homes or families. There's just nothing more to say. So we don't say anything.

And that makes suddenly hearing foreign voices even more alarming.

I have but a bite left of my breakfast when someone's voice drifts my way.

"…didn't bother to keep any on me since I didn't think you'd do something stupid enough to injure your wrist."

I freeze, bread poised a centimetre from my mouth, and in the corner of my eye I see Fronce going pale.

"So you're going to make me climb all the way down with a broken wrist?"

"Yes! Consider it punishment for being idiotic enough to try to punch a boulder to bits!"

Swearing silently to myself when the Careers become visible, I put the piece of bread in my mouth and stand up. As I put a hand over my rapier handle, Fronce gets to his feet, turns around, and immediately bolts for the crater wall.

"Wha?" Confusion and disuse rusting my voice, I risk losing sight of the Careers to watch him. "What are you doing?"

"Getting out of here!" he snaps. "You can't honestly tell me you think we have a chance against those two!"

I glance back at the Careers, and even I'm not stubborn enough to dismiss Fronce's idea. I hurry after him, and we go over the wall separately before hurrying away around the mountain.

I can tell I've gotten weaker. While I was never the school's sprinting champion, I could at least go a few metres without slowing. Now, my legs are screaming for a break less than half a minute after we've started our dash. If my life wasn't on the line, I probably wouldn't have enough adrenaline to keep going at all.

But it is. I haven't bothered to turn around, since I'll probably stumble if I don't watch where I'm going, but I can tell from clacks and splashes the Careers aren't too far behind anymore.

I wonder where we're going. There's no way we're going to outrun trained professionals on our own merit. If we don't arrive somewhere we can throw these two off, this isn't going to go well.

Briefly, I cast my gaze up to see if anything is within sight. Nothing.

And then there's a sword in my side.

Half-gasping half-screaming at the sudden pain, I stumble, skidding forward and getting numerous abrasions on my legs as I struggle to get my hands around my rapier handle. I rip the foil out of its sheath with the loud sound of metal grating metal just before the enemy's sword descends upon me again. Too shaken by all of the running to block in time, I can only cry out in pain as the Career's blade forces its way into my neck. Left even more out of breath, I only vaguely register screaming from somewhere else nearby as my body turns cold from blood loss. A lone shiver wracks me before everything goes black.


	24. Break Down

Author's Note: The POV of Greis Karpusi is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Spain Carriedo, District 3**

I pace discomposedly at the edge of the crater. The moist, dark brown dirt is soft and spongy, and the ferns and things bend softly under my feet.

"It's a nice place out here, really," I breathe, continuing to put my feet in front of each other. "It's a little hot and dirty, but it makes beautiful scenery. I'm all right, you know?" I find that I've stopped pacing and have started aimlessly peeling bark off a tree trunk with the claw of the hammer. "I still have a lot of food, there's definitely plenty of water, and, I mean, sure, my district partner, ally, and friend died right in front of me, but that's okay!" I laugh. "Everything's okay! There's nothing to worry about, so I won't be worried about anything! Hey," I start, "I'm talking to myself, aren't I? How funny is that!" I continue to laugh, stripping away the tree's covering. "Funny stuff, funny stuff..." A chunk of bark comes off at an odd angle as the hammer twitches.

"Wha?" I respond, staring at the thing for a second before laughing again. "Oh! It's because I'm shaking! Silly."

I continue hacking away at the tree trunk, and I briefly ask myself why I'm doing this but don't answer. A bare, misshapen patch has appeared on the trunk by the time I decide to stop. Flicking some splinters off the hammer and still narrating myself, I turn to make sure something hasn't mysteriously befallen my tomatoes since I last looked away.

"Nope, nothing's happened to them. And..." I blink. "Um, hi?" I stare at the Careers on the other side of the crater before suddenly seeming to realise_ I should really get out of here_.

I turn around to face the jungle and start running.

All the leaves and vivd colours become a blur as I focus on getting away. I transition from speaking to just thinking as my breathing starts to get a little heavier.

Well! The Careers have gotten here, huh? That's not good. But I'm okay. I can still run. I can get away from these guys, yeah? Nothing to worry about! Isn't that nice?

Panting, I push some limp, brown vines out of the way as I continue running. I don't look back to check on the impending tributes. Why would I? If they're closer, they're closer; if they're not, they're not. No reason to get myself scared. Not when everything's all right!

I almost stumble over an outstanding root, but correct myself and keep powering through.

See? They still didn't catch up. Nothing to fret about. Nothing at all!

Forcing a few low, thin branches out of my way and in the process snapping them, I suddenly come into a small clearing. What do you know? Even less stuff to trip me up! Just keeps getting better and better!

The clearing passes underfoot pretty quickly, though, and I'm soon back into the thick of things. I almost run straight into a tree, but I manage to push myself back before I can hit it.

Of course, this move also manages to land me in the arms of one of the Careers.

With a yelp of surprise, I start squirming, but I gain little ground. Leaves rustle to my right as the other Career, the male, navigates around a dense patch of trees to get to my front. Heart thudding, I thrash harder. Ania's elbow budges, but not enough for me to get out before she readjusts.

"Let go of me!" I pant, trying to force her arms open with only my shoulders. With a drawn-out grunt, I finally manage to pull my right arm up a good few centimetres.

But now Rome is in front of me, his sword drawn. In desperation, I kick, trying to get in a cheap shot, but the Career easily dodges.

And then I suddenly seem to remember I'm still carrying my hammer.

Ducking my head to the side, I bend my elbow and snap my arm up, letting the hammer fly for Ania's face. I can't move enough to see it connect, but I hear her cry out in pain, cautionarily clenching her arms tighter but losing her balance. We fall to the side, and I land hard on her elbow. Finally she loses her grip with that arm, and I roll over her and out of her grasp. Before I can figure out what I'm doing, my hands feel around the dirt madly for the hammer but can't quite locate it before an outraged Ania recovers. Content I won't have time to run away, she withdraws her own sword and rolls onto her feet. With a grunt, she swings.

Having no escape to either side, I somersault backward and end up kicking her sword, although it's not nearly enough to knock it from her hands. I stand up before my senses clear up, wanting to make sure she won't be able to pin me down again. It takes no time for her to stand up with me, and after a second's calculation, she slashes at me.

I dodge to the side, subconsciously laughing at the simplicity of escaping that swipe, and inadvertantly get into the ideal position for Rome to dig his blade into my side. So of course he does.

"Aah!" I buckle over, putting a hand to the wound in an apparent attempt to hold it together, before forcing myself to stand back up and keep fighting. Rome is the first to attack me now, sword in an arc to where my shoulder meets my neck. I can't dodge, but I can retaliate with a full-weight punch to the side of his head. Temporarily stunned, he stumbles sideways into a tree. Gasping for breath, I take a few steps back myself, but I don't get out of Ania's range.

My punishment is another wound, narrowly deflected from my neck to my arms. Blood streams down the tips of my fingers when I put my arms back down. Ania slashes again before I can push the pain away, and to dodge far enough to keep her from opening up my neck, I have to lose my balance again. Struggling to push myself back up as the ground becomes more wet under my bloody fingers, I can't find strength in my arms before Ania comes after me. I scoot myself backward rapidly, able to keep her sword away from anything vital but getting a shallow cut across my knee.

I plant my hands back on the ground to push myself up, and, to my surprise, my palm lands on something cold. Feeling it over quickly, I identify it as the hammer, grab it, and finally force my legs to take my weight again.

Before I can dispel the creeping disorientation from blood loss, another blade is ripping through the front of my chest, and in reflex I hurl the object in my hand forward. It collides somewhere with a crunch, and, blinking the blurriness out of my vision, I see Rome pushed away and Ania recoiling at the deluge of blood from her nose.

Feet made heavy by the damage I've taken, I try to get away before they can recover.

I don't.

A misplaced sword drags along the back of my neck when my toes snag on a mossy root. Panicking, I stick my arms out to wedge myself between two trunks before I can fall. The bark chafes my hands but stops me.

And then something slices open the side of my neck.

With the cry of a startled animal, I lose the stiffness in my arms and topple over. The blood surges out so fast I can't even see the faces of the two standing over me before everything goes black.

**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

"Ah-_choo_!"

I curse silently, sniffling not quite so quietly. Of all places to catch a stupid cold!

I guess I _was _out in the pouring rain without shelter for a few hours, but just getting wet doesn't cause colds, does it?

"Ah-choo!"

Well, one way or the other, I have a cold now. And it really, really sucks to be sneezing this loudly, despite trying to muffle it with my shirtsleeve, when my whole strategy is avoiding detection.

So I'm in a bit of a quandary. I need rest to make this go away, but it's too late in the Games for me to be anything but alert. It would probably take several days to recoup, anyway, and who knows if the Games will even last that long?

So I guess I'll still stay awake for the most part. It's not like I can rest and stay well-hydrated—the only available water anymore is collected on the stones, and there's no way I could curl up and sleep over there.

So, I'll have to keep staying awake. I'm still not quite used to it. I spent most of my days at school as nap time, and, so far, most of the days here. But I've been more awake as the Games have continued, and, even though I need the sleep abruptly more now, I'm going to have to keep it up.

Ugh. I'd better not let myself nod off now. Although it's usually a conscious decision, I've never really had to fight the urge before, so this is going to be tricky.

"Ah-choo!"

And that part definitely doesn't help.


	25. Sleep

**Sve Oxenstierna, District 11**

I'm still sitting silently. It's been a while. Maybe a few days. I couldn't say. Rain has fallen. The thickness of the limbs above me kept me quite dry. Natalya, too.

I find myself turning to look at her. She's still lying there on the roots. Her knife is still in her hand. Her eyes are still closed. I wouldn't expect that to change. Not since her cannon fired.

It was only a few minutes ago. After many other cannons. I wouldn't have known she was dead if a hovercraft didn't try to pick her up. It couldn't get through the branches. So she's still there. Maybe I'm expected to move her. I don't see why. I don't think it matters much where she is. There's nothing more for her to do.

When I look at her, I can feel the faintest throb of some other feeling besides my ever-present depression. I can't place it. Maybe guilt. I was here the whole time. I could have given her water the first time her eyes went too dry for her to keep them open. But I didn't. I could have gotten her something to drink from the torrential rainfall and put it to her lips to take in slowly. But I didn't.

Even if that's the feeling, it's so vague. I can't really say I'm regretful. Another life gone. What does it matter? You can only see so much death before it loses its effect on you.

And I'm starting to think I wouldn't have cared in the first place. None of these lives mattered to me. I was prepared to take them all for _her_. And I did kill one, that Wiremu. Even now, I can't say I've thought twice about destroying him. I just don't feel anything toward it. It was just a chore to be done. Something unimportant to get out of the way.

I guess that's how I feel about all of them. Just lives. They aren't much on their own. Not much added up, either. This is how the Capitol thinks. This is how it is. A life is as important as you believe it to be. And if you don't believe it's important, it's not.

The only life I ever really thought was significant was _hers_. And now it's gone. Everything important is gone.

Yet I remain.

**Rome Gnaeus, District 1**

I pull myself into the meadow crater as Ania circles the border for a clean-looking puddle. Finally locating one, she kneels down and starts to wash out her wound, hissing in pain.

I pause in my path to the Cornucopia to watch. As she clears away the mixture of dried and fresh blood, I can see that, on top of the scratches from the hammer's claw, her nose is positively dented in the middle.

I shudder a little. If that had gone to my skull like it was intended to, I wouldn't still be here.

"I guess I should thank you for that, huh?" I start with a grin, padding back over to where Ania scrubs off the last of the rust-coloured stuff from her face.

"No need," she responds, dabbing the water away with her jacket sleeve. "Remember the first time we met, that hit you took for me? Well, we're finally even."

"That's true…" Behind her, I draw a little closer, leaning to rest my chin on her shoulder. "But you and I both know you did it because you love me."

"_Heck_ no," she spits, pulling her shoulder out from under me. She shakes her head and starts back toward the meadow.

I clamber after her. "Oh, come on, Ania!" I beg as we go over the wall. "There's no need to deny your feelings any longer!"

"_What _feelings?" she grumbles, landing on the grass and stepping over the bushes.

"You know what I mean," I coo, walking my fingers up her arm before she abruptly shoves me away. "Ania…"

She just crosses her arms—a bit awkward since her sheath got dented in the rockfall and she has to hold her sword—and shakes her head. "Rome, just shut up so we can tend to your stupid wrist."

"Okay, okay," I sigh, holding my arms up as we get to the mouth of the Cornucopia. While the vast majority of the supplies are long gone, I can still see a wrist support-whatchamacallit near the back.

"What are you waiting for?" Ania grumbles, nudging me with her knee toward the thing.

"All right, all right! A little pushy today, are we, Ania?" I duck down to enter the horn.

Ania scoffs. "I don't see how screwing around would do any good."

"Aw, I bet you're just upset from your injuries," I respond, reaching my uninjured hand for the wrapped-up wrist brace. "But that's understandable. No one's perfect." Deciding not to inform her that I, however, am pretty close, I lean a little further to get the package.

And then there's suddenly a sword sticking out of my chest.

I stare uncomprehending at the blood gushing out from my ruptured heart as the blade is slid back out of my ribs. It takes another second for the pain to register, but once it does, I immediately collapse on the inside curve of the Cornucopia. I end up sliding to the bottom after my blood gathers beneath me.

Here, lying on my back, I can see Ania looking down at me coldly, her sword glinting in the sunlight.

"A-Ania…" I choke out, unable to make my lungs work properly enough to form more words.

My district partner just shakes her head. "I always had to respect you for taking that hit for me. But from the very beginning, I have always _hated—your—guts_." She kicks me hard in the stomach, knocking the breath out of me, and I can't seem to keep breathing in.

"Go die, pig," she finishes solidly before turning and walking away from me.

I don't have much of a choice but to obey.

**Eston von Bock, District 7**

So many cannons have fired today that even Amer is quick to look up when the anthem starts. The faces flash up within seconds.

First is Rome. Another Career gone. Next up are the threes. The boy from 5 with the huge eyebrows is there, followed shortly by the 6 who was always buzzing after him. Next is the creepy girl from 9. Her livid glare at the camera, and at us for outlasting her, is the last thing to decorate the sky until the seal of Panem returns.

6 people. That's more than the bloodbath. I have to wonder what happened, but once I realise I'm imagining people's deaths, I stop. There's nothing wrong with being curious, but the least I can do for these tributes is not kill them all over again within the confines of my brain.

As the sky returns to its ghoulish shade of empty black, I turn my attention back to the ground. Raivis is rolling a small rock around in his hands, while Amer is squinting across the empty crater tiredly. Amer's still wary of looking Raivis in the eye, but at least the 12 isn't squeaking or stammering in terror anymore when Amer addresses him. At the sound of the 10's voice, Raivis's tremors creep back in, but it's easy to tell that's beyond his control. He's trying. He's still an intimidated, tortured wreck, but he's trying.

"Who wants first watch, then?" I start, knowing I'll end up taking it but not liking the tense silence.

"I... can try," Amer volunteers weakly, straining to keep his eyelids from falling.

"Still not the best idea," I inform him. He understands but is still downcast about it. "You can start once you're rested up enough, okay?"

" 'Kay," he mumbles, upset but too sleepy to fight about it. He slumps sideways at the crater wall, and he's snoring within a minute.

Raivis keeps silently toying with the pebble; it's a bit harder for him now since he's back to trembling. Not to mention he jumps a little whenever Amer accidentally snores a little too suddenly and loudly. I'm pretty sure that little bundle of nerves isn't going to fall asleep any time soon. Maybe he should take watch instead?

Wait... Did he get any sleep last night? He was always awake when I was, and it certainly didn't look like he moved a centimetre the whole time.

I look over at him now. Even in the moonlight, and at the angle he's facing me, I can make out the bags under his eyes.

"You should get some sleep." I consider adding that he doesn't look that healthy, but at this point I'm sure he'd think I mean he has smallpox or something.

Raivis looks at me blankly for a second before returning to his humdrum game with the stone. "Probably," he says quietly.

"Why don't you get some, then?"

He reflexively glances at Amer. Upon realising this, he cringes in shame and looks back away. "I-I don't know," he mumbles, passing the pebble between his hands. "I-I-I... I just can't." Catching the rock in his right hand, he sighs and slumps over, crossing his arms and putting his forehead to his upward-pointing knees.

"That's okay." I move closer to put a hand on his back. As always, he jerks before relaxing a little. "No one expects you to recover immediately. You want to go ahead and take watch?" I briefly register this as a bad idea, considering it looks like he fabricated all of the tributes this morning, but shake my head. He's not going to get to sleep, and I need to. The lesser of two evils, I guess.

"Yeah, I'll take it," he responds quietly.

"Thanks." I move to give him a little space before I fall asleep.


	26. Close Your Eyes

**Amer Jones, District 10**

I never got woken up for watch. And from the looks of it, neither did Eston.

By that, I mean by the looks of Raivis. Sure, he's been known to stumble occassionally since he hurt his ankle a little, but every couple of steps, at a slow pace, when the ground is practically just smooth gravel? That, and his eyes are pried unnaturally wide open. Not the scared kind, either. More like an all-nighter concerning way too much coffee. Not to mention how he keeps zoning out for so long I think he's gonna start drooling or something.

Or has he been this way for a while, and I just haven't noticed? Hopefully not.

Either way, he definitely needs some sleep.

"Hey," I start, pausing to make sure I don't come out as demanding, "Raivis? You look like you could use a little more sleep."

I try to keep from wincing when I notice he's quivering again as he pauses in his pacing and looks up at me. He clears his throat nervously before mumbling, "Probably."

I keep looking on as he drops his gaze back to his feet and continues his series of steps and stumbles.

"So," Eston, seeing I'm not sure what to do next, eventually continues for me, "why don't you get some more shut-eye, then?"

My heart plummets like a boulder when Raivis turns to glance at me. My breath catches until I see him continue turning to look over the side of the crater and down the mountain. Wondering whether that's where he was looking in the first place, or if it was just a cover-up, I force out the breath I've been holding.

Raivis leans with his elbows on top of the narrow crater wall and surveys the area below us while breathing slowly. He's poised like this for just a moment before he suddenly buckles over to bury his face in his arms. His shaking now more from crying than from reflex, his voice is muffled when he finally starts talking.

"I'm s-sorry," he chokes out frist and foremost, forcing himself with difficulty to look me in the eye. "I-I know y-yo-you're not going to h-h-hurt me," he continues, sniffling, "but I-I-I... I don't know! I-I just can't h-help it... I'm scared, e-even though I know, I-I _know_, you're my friend..." His instincts finally win over; his gaze drops away from my face, and he goes back to just burying his eyes in the crook of his elbow.

And for once in my life, I just want to freaking hit this guy. If you know...! If you know this, quit doing this to me! Quit doing this to yourself! I should go and smack some freaking sense into you already! But I know that wouldn't help. At all. It would just make things worse. But what else am I supposed to do?

I try to make my furious teeth-clenching as unnoticeable as possible. Forcing deep breaths down my throat, I can only lessen the anger by letting the chill of despair rise.

"Okay... Okay... Raivis?" I try again, hoping the pain I can't keep out of my voice won't intimidate him. "Just... Just..." Still unwell, I slowly make my way toward him and put an arm over his shoulders. "Just... trust yourself, okay? You know I'm not gonna hurt you, and you know I'm not gonna let anyone else hurt you. So don't let anything else tell you that's not right!" I can't help sounding a little desperate.

Raivis has stopped crying, but he's still sniffling some. Stiffly, he cranes his neck to look at my face. "...Yeah?"

"Yeah," I echo breathlessly, softly tugging him away from the ridge. "Just keep reminding yourself. All the-the stuff you _know_. And... get some sleep."

"In the middle of the day?" he mumbles, a very vague semblance of a smile on his lips.

"Yes. In the middle of the day," I laugh. I guide him to a seated position, and from there he crumples to something less stressful.

"Remember," I end quietly, "you're safe."

It seems like forever, but once he falls asleep I can't help but smile.

**Ania Jerume, District 1**

The sun sets slowly as I finish off my supper. There will be no faces in the sky tonight. Unlike last night. That's when Rome was up there.

I just don't really have much to say about killing him. It's what we're supposed to do here. There's no reason to be guilty about it. That hit to his temple would have killed him, and I took the damage. Repaid him exactly for that time in training. So we were just two Careers allied with each other. No friendship. No obligations. Just some people trained to kill.

And that's what I did. That's all. Just picked the right time to catch him unaware, and I didn't sustain any damage from it. Everything worked out perfectly.

I have to begrudgingly admit I liked some company, but… Not his. I am much happier to be alone than be hit on by that imp every waking moment.

And that's what I hated about him. He flirts all the time, with everyone, without restraints. It seems like a trivial thing at first, but when I'm in the middle of it, when I get thinking more and more about it… It's _infuriating_! The nerve of the guy! It's just beyond belief.

And that's the technique to use. Learnt it in the Tribute Training Facility. You think you like someone? Just try and you won't. Find something you can't stand, build on it… And eventually you can get mad enough to kill. A pretty good thing to tell your Careers when you know they'll have to kill people they've trained alongside.

So, I'm just acting as I should. Nothing wrong with that. If I ever want to be guilty about this, it can wait until I'm safely out of here. The competition is nearing its end. I don't have time to fret about being a murderer.

I just have to get through this, and then I can do whatever I want.

Packing up my supplies, I start off for the hunt.

**Sve Oxenstierna, District 11**

Lying stomach-up, I stare at the shadow-cloaked branches above me. They're just the same as they've been every other night. Twisting around to meet bunches of flat leaves behind a haze of darkness my eyes can't penetrate. No changes. No surprises. Like my life anymore. Sitting. Waiting for something, exactly what, I don't know. She's never coming back, so I don't have anything to do. No life to live. Nothing to do. Nothing to change. Just some blank existence that hasn't felt like ending yet.

My stomach growls again, but I ignore it, like I've been doing for a while. There's not much food in sight, and I have nothing to drive me to find any. I still don't understand why I got up during the rainstorm to get a drink. It's like something else had taken control of me. Maybe... Maybe it was her, telling me she didn't want me to die?

...

But I didn't want her to die, and she did. And I refuse to live without her.

I doubt that theory is true, anyway. It was probably some simple survival instinct. I suppose on some level I'm still human.

I'm so unfocused on the sight above me I don't notice the other tribute until she's standing right on top of me.

A bit off-guard but not really caring, I just stare back at her.

"Are you planning to defend yourself?" Ania sneers, always having hated _her_, and me by association.

I don't respond to her query.

With a neutral "hm", Ania experimentally stabs me in the centre of my stomach. My body cringes as hot liquid starts to flow out from the wound.

"Nothing?" she comments. "Hmph. Guess you're not so tough without your girlfriend," she spits.

I only blink at her emptily.

Disgusted, she bluntly rams the edge of her blade into my neck and watches me choke.

I struggle to hang on more than I could believe I'm capable of without _her_. But it doesn't matter. Whether fast or slow, painful or blearily numb, the darkness comes.

Long after my eyes stop working, I see her. My angel. She reaches out for me. Unable to move, I vainly try to stretch toward her. But it's okay. She continues to approach me, a smile on her face as her fingers draw closer.

Then, just before our hands touch, I die.


	27. Time Passes

Author's Note: The POV of Greis Karpusi is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Ania Jerume, District 1**

I wade through the ocean of rocks until daybreak. By then, I've had enough. I may have trained for situations like this, but I still need sleep. And the Capitol shouldn't mind, anyway. I've had a busy day, and I just added another kill to the list. They'll be fine with me getting a little shut-eye.

I end up clambering over the rocks for a while until I find a reasonably dry rock. It's not the most comfortable, but I don't want to keep moving.

I nod off in a matter of minutes.

And then the nightmares begin.

I can't say I wasn't expecting this. It was so bad the night of Rome's death, the second after I woke up screaming, I just refused to sleep outright.

But I have to go through this now. I need rest. Or, at least, I need sleep. Rest isn't going to happen. Not when my subconscious is playing back my murders, warped sinisterly like dreams are so often.

In the first nightmare, rather than simply stabbing Rome through the heart I behead him. The betrayed look on his decapitated head is too much for me to take, and I kill myself.

Next, I'm back in pursuit of the two blonde boys. Everything goes smoothly until I land my hit on the boy with longer hair. Instead of tearing through his neck, my sword suddenly halts in the middle of its path. I look on with terror as the skin I've rent closes back up around the sword, and with an insane grin of victory, the boy pulls the sword out and beheads me.

And then I'm suddenly in the jungle. At least, I somehow know I'm in the jungle, even though I can sense nothing but blackness. I step carefully, heart racing, as I try to make out something, anything, in the complete lack of light, sound, and smell. And, just when I've given up on the hope of substance anywhere but below my feet, the 3 boy suddenly appears, pouncing for me. I'm so blown away by the sudden sight, I fall before I can even register what's going on. With a cheerful smile on his face—and absolutely nothing else around it—he bashes my skull into the ground before letting out a shrill laugh and bringing down his hammer between my eyes.

The sequence doesn't stop, no matter how many times I gratefully return to the waking world. My body is too tired for me to stay, though, so I keep having to return to the world of nightmares. To where I kill, I die, I am anyone but myself yet only myself. It just keeps on repeating itself until I finally wrench myself away for the last time.

I need sleep so much. But I'm not going to get it now.

And something tells me I may never slumber peacefully again.

**Raivis Lithu, District 12**

When I finally unclose my eyes, the sun is glaring down at me.

"Hey, Rip Van Winkle's finally up!" comes a comment from a voice I'm too temporarily disoriented to place.

Rubbing some of the sleep from my eyes, I sit up. "What do you mean?" I half-ask, half-mumble, looking up at the sky to hide that I don't know who spoke.

"Nothing much," Eston says cheerfully. "You've just been asleep for, uh, a little over a day, looks like."

"Wh-what?" I pat my hands over the ground around me, like for some reason it would indicate what day it is. "That long?"

"Well, yeah." I cringe inwardly when the voice makes my quivering start up again. "No one wanted to wake you. You just seemed so... calm."

"Yeah?" I flick some crumbled rock off my sleeve. "Probably the only time you'll think that about me, huh?"

"Pretty much," Eston responds, shuffling his hands through our basket of apples. "But, luckily enough, you just so happened to wake up just in time for lunch." He takes out two apples, cuts one into thirds with the pickaxe—I can't help but flick my gaze away when he does—puts one of the pieces back into the basket, and splits the rest of the apple between him and Amer. He then hands me the whole of the other apple.

"Wait..." I start dumbly.

"You've missed two meals," Eston informs me. "All of that's yours." He folds the cloth in the basket over what little remains. "Of course, if you don't feel like eating it all, I have no problem with putting the rest away for later."

I twirl the fruit around in my hand, marvelling at being given an entire apple. Cautiously, I take my first bite, the wonderful crunching sound and influx of juice making me realise just how hungry I really am. Even though I take small bites, I've gotten through half of the apple in less than a minute. I suddenly notice that no one else is still eating and start to feel gluttonous. I sheepishly drag the fruit away from my face and look at it for a moment. I'm still hungry, but... I know I'm not going to get full, at least not for long, with just an apple. And we can't have all that much left.

"Um..." I force myself to divert my gaze from the plump, juicy apple as I raise it toward Eston. "Let's save the rest for later."

Eston raises an eyebrow but takes the apple, anyway, tucking it safely into its own little section of the basket. Before folding the cloth back over, he tosses the core from the other apple over his shoulder. This just so happens to be exactly in my direction, and before I'm quite aware of the situation, I lean over, arm out, and it lands in my palm.

Staring curiously at the core, I jump a little when Amer suddenly bursts into applause.

"Nice catch!" he laughs as Eston finishes securing our remaining food. "Okay, okay..." Amer, apparently more healthy than the last time I saw him, gets to his feet slowly and stretches. He holds his hands out a little in front of him and starts shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Throw it here!"

I attempt to comply, but I'm trembling a little and still not in possession of a decent throwing arm. The core veers to the right and a ways below where he was ready to catch, but with an exclamation and a lunge, he just gets a hand under it. He doesn't quite keep his balance and ends up falling sideways to the ground. For a second he winces in pain, and a bolt of fear goes through me unwarranted, but then he starts laughing.

"Great save!" Eston calls as Amer rolls over onto his back and struggles to sit back up.

"You know it!" Amer pants, twirling the core in his hands. "Can you pull something like that?" Without a second to let Eston register the challenge, Amer flings the core in his general direction. Eston tries to jump and catch it, but he doesn't bring his hands together quickly enough, and the core goes skidding over the rocky gravel.

"That would be a no," Eston answers, laughing as he stoops to pick the thing up.

"Hey," I start, "toss it back here."

Eston does so, the core travelling in a simple arc to my hands.

"Well, less easy than that." I laugh, although it ends up sounding a bit nervous, and throw the core back to Eston, who once again fails to catch it properly. Amer snickers at the incompetence while Eston rolls his eyes and playfully gets into an exaggerated pitcher's stance.

"You asked for it!" Eston hurls the core at me so quickly I barely bring my hands to meet it. It's a far cry from an actual catch; the unwanted piece of apple bounces away to the ground.

"Okay, okay, throw it back to me!" Amer commands excitedly, clapping his hands once and grinning.

Echoing his smile, I comply.

**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

I've had a cold for three days. Three entire days.

I don't know what the Gamemakers are doing. There haven't been any cannons recently, so the audience must be itching for some action. By this time, there'd usually be a feast or something to get the tributes together.

Well, now that I think about it, the tables full of food and things have always come out of the ground before. Which means a special compartment had to have been carved into the arena for it to happen. And, from the rush there must have been to get this arena done, they must not have had enough time to throw in a table.

Maybe they were expecting the tributes to miraculously congregate in a crater like the last time this setting was used. It should be obvious by now that's not going to happen, though.

So I imagine they'll be dropping some mutts pretty soon. It's the easiest way to drive the tributes together. Can't stay where you are when a rabid squirrel or something is after you.

I really hope they don't hit me with anything, though. I _have _been staying in the same place, but I have a cold, you know? Most of the idiots in the Capitol, who probably skip work if they get a paper cut, will think that's a perfectly acceptable excuse. And the Gamemakers know I'm willing to work for them. Would they want to risk a perfectly malleable Victor just for a little more entertainment?

Well, they probably would, but... I have to hope for something.

I try to get in a more comfortable position among the prairie tree's branches before nodding off again.


	28. Hunt and Kill

Author's Note: The POV of Greis Karpusi is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Ania Jerume, District 1**

I stare blankly at the sunrise. Must mean I've gone another day without sleep. That's about it.

I should go out and hunt… I've completely lost track of everyone, though. At this point, I'm just wandering around, half-conscious.

Seems like things should be happening quicker than they are. There haven't been any cannons since Sve's. Doesn't sound exciting enough for the audience, at least to me.

I stare down at my feet. My shoes are kind of worn. I can feel the blisters, despite what must have long calloused over by now. Kind of hard to prevent that stuff when you're doing nothing but hiking.

Can't complain, though. I can only blame myself for having to roam around aimlessly. My lack of direction stems from my lack of sleep, which is, of course, because I can't force myself to get over killing.

Blaming myself or otherwise, things still aren't that pleasant. I'm out of food—I've been that way for the past few days—it hurts to keep going, I'm sure I'm about to fall off the side of the mountain from general weariness… Just not fun.

But no one ever said the Hunger Games would be fun. Well, no one sane, at least. Kill, starve, wear out, kill some more. I knew it would be this way from the minute I started training. The Games weren't sugarcoated back in the Centre. We still act like it's something worth celebrating, but it's not fun—it's a matter of honour to the District.

Things are taken that way more seriously by 4, and even more by 2, but 1 has its soldiers, too. The Games-broadcasted comment a few years ago on the disorganisation of the place led to some improvements, but a lot still treat it as it shouldn't be. The classes are split, though, so the more committed have chances to properly prove their worth.

And then, after all the training, it's off to the Games. Kill, starve, wear out, kill some more. That's all there is to this dreadful place.

I almost stumble over yet another rock, but manage to keep from tumbling down the mountainside.

And then something peculiar catches my eye. While I doubt I'd notice much of anything at this point, it's hard to miss a bright green, furry thing with an unnaturally drill-shaped tail.

"Hi." I stare at the little mutt, and it stares back. Not sure why I was expecting more of a response than that.

The mutt continues to look for a second, and then hops down one of the stones. I look at it for a second before taking a step toward it. It jumps down another few stones and looks back at me. I slowly follow. It continues to lead, and I continue after it.

Seems like I'm supposed to follow this little guy, I guess. It hasn't attacked me, so if it's here to give the audience a show, it's because of another tribute.

Or it might be leading me straight into a trap.

I don't really care at this point. Just, _something_, happen.

**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

I unclose my eyes drowsily. The sun above me says it's about noon. Guess I slept through just about the whole morning.

Not like there's anything else to do. Nibble on what remains of my supplies. Sneak away every once in a while to get some more water. Complain occasionally about how loud sneezes are. Go back to sleep, and hope your luck doesn't run out.

I shift, the branches around me trembling slightly. Wincing at my soreness, I stretch a bit. Crooked, rough branches don't make a pleasant mattress. While I've done tons of sleeping with desks, books, or gravel pavement for a pillow, I can honestly say I've never nodded off on something so uncomfortable. Between this and the cold, I feel like I've been beat up pretty thoroughly.

But I won't say anything. I haven't _actually _been beaten up, nor have I run into any tributes I didn't summarily take care of. I'd hate to be ungrateful for the luck coupled with my strategy.

I move around a little more, even though I should know by now I'm not actually going to get comfortable. My shield of view shifts just enough for me to make out someone climbing around.

I freeze, recognising Ania. She stumbles along, staring at something by her feet that I can't see from behind the branches. And then I realise she's coming toward this crater.

Well. Can't say I expected my luck to last much longer, anyway.

I reach over a few branches to get a hand around my weapon. Ania draws nearer, ostensibly heading straight for me, but still seeming oblivious—she doesn't look toward the tree at all.

At least, not until she's already in the crater. She casts a last glance to the ground behind her and then turns around.

I hold my breath as she treads steadily further into the prairie. She's slightly more alert now, although she still looks like she's about to fall asleep. She's not likely to notice me, but I'll still be ready.

I tighten my grip on the handle as she stalks forward.

And then I feel an all-too-familiar tickling in my nose.

I clench my teeth, cursing inwardly. Just don't sneeze yet, I will myself. She'll be here in a few minutes, and then I can ambush her. But if she's aware of my presence beforehand…

I bury my nose in my sleeve, unable to keep it in any longer. Luckily it's stifled, and it looks like Ania's not aware enough to hear such a soft sound.

Good. All I needed was—

"Ah-choo!"

I freeze in horror, wondering how exactly my arm decided to move away without my permission.

I don't have much time to wonder before Ania looks right at me.

Although I curse the thin foliage of this tree, I don't make an effort to move. If I'm lucky, my weapon still shouldn't be in her range of sight, and she'll think I'm defenseless.

I can't tell whether or not she's seen my blade, but either way, she's picked up the pace significantly. She'll be right under me in a matter of seconds.

Pulse roaring in my ears, I shift, ready to spring out and attack. Ania takes another few steps, and I pounce.

I bring my weapon around hard, jamming the blade through her throat—

—Just as she shoves her sword through my ribs.

She topples over onto the grass with me in tow, blood swiftly puddling up beneath us. I half-heartedly toss my weapon to the side as Ania struggles for her last breath. There's a sickening gurgling sound, and she stops breathing. The cannon fires.

But I can't get out of the way for the hovercraft. If I let this sword slip out of me, I'm dead. But my heart can seal around it, if I just manage to keep it in me.

I can feel it sliding, so, so slightly. I can't lean over enough to grab the hilt, so I'm forced to stop the movement by grabbing the sharp sides of the sword. Letting out a hiss of pain, I shakily wrap my fingers around the face of the sword, blood trickling down the sides. With a grunt, I try to pop the handle out of Ania's grasp.

But I can't. Even though her grip has gone limp, the handle is still firmly tucked under her hand.

My arms trembling with the effort of holding the heavy sword with a weak grip, I lean a bit so I stand on one foot. I use the other to stomp on her hand. The fingers shift slightly, but I can't get the sword out from underneath them.

I feel my hands starting to slip. There's just too much blood, everywhere, to keep a good grip.

I stomp harder, finally making her let go. My arms shake from the effort of holding the sword up, so I hurry to step away from the corpse and find a place to kneel down.

One step. I feel the metal slipping under my hands, no matter how hard I try to squeeze. Another step. I try to dig my fingers in in a last-ditch effort to stop this from sliding away.

And then I sneeze. The sword finally glides out of my chest. I bring my arms closer, slashing them up, to make it stop, but the metal completely exits my heart.

I stare blankly at the bloody weapon clattering to the ground before I collapse after it.

So... I lost after all...

My consciousness swims away.


	29. Executioner

Author's Note: This alternate ending's awfully long. Hopefully I can wrap things up within two chapters.

* * *

**Eston von Bock, District 7**

We're busy debating how to go about knocking our rations down a notch when the cannons fire.

Cannons. Plural. There were only two other tributes left—I've kept careful track of everyone. So, now... it's... It's just us?

I don't notice I'm still staring at the last of our food until Amer tries to get me back to the waking world.

"Yo? Earth to Eston!" A hand is waved in front of my face, and I blink, looking up. "You okay?"

"Hm? Yeah, I guess so..." I close my eyes and rub my forehead with a sigh. "You know... That was the last of the playing field just then. We're... We're the only ones still here."

Not expecting this revelation at all, Amer just stares at me blankly as the words try to penetrate the admittedly-thick barrier into his brain.

"The only ones?" he finally echoes, the vaguest bit of realisation just starting to enter his expression.

"Yeah." I shift my legs, feeling a bit restless.

"Well..." Amer crosses his arms. "The Capitol had better let us out right now, because there's no way we're hurting each other!" He glares up at the sky like a hovercraft driver really is going to agree with him and descend to pluck us all out.

"You know they're not going to do that," I mumble, any energy I may have had sapped by the knowledge I've been able to put aside in this alliance, the knowledge I could easily die here, resurfacing. "They'd sooner watch us starve." I stare back down at the little food remaining.

"But... But that's not very entertaining, right?" Amer brings up, his voice a little higher-pitched.

"I wouldn't think so." I look up at the sky. Of course, if they decide that's not entertaining enough, they'd probably sic some muttations on us. And they'd want to do that as soon as possible, so we can put up some sort of a fight in the final showdown.

Or... No... They wouldn't want something... They wouldn't want something more dramatic... would they?

"Well, they'll just have to be... un-entertained, then!" Amer announces. "We'll just have to-to starve, then. But we'll do it as friends!" He crosses his arms firmly and sits, like he's planning to starve in that spot exactly.

"If you really want it that way..." I start, not so confident.

"Well—yeah! Why wouldn't I?"

I look up at him. "Um... Listen, I don't mean to be insulting, but... Amer, you've got about twice as much meat on your bones as either of us. If we sit here and wither away... You'll be the last one standing."

Given the images of the two of us starving to death right in front of his eyes, it doesn't take quite as long for the horror to appear on his face.

"No. Nonono. N-No!" he stammers, getting to his feet for no reason other than franticness. "That—no. That's not going to happen! I-I-I... I won't let it happen!"

"How?" I respond without thinking.

Amer grimaces and sits back down. For once not having much to say, he just looks around blankly. Apparently he notices our other ally's change in mood.

Raivis is just sitting there, curled up in as tight a ball possible, quivering badly and rocking from side to side like a shivering pendulum.

"Are you okay?" Amer jumps in, swooping to his side.

"I'm just fine," Raivis replies in the most unconvincing voice imaginable.

I can't help but cringe. Just when we finally got him acting relaxed... I guess good things can never last long in the Hunger Games.

Amer can't convince him to stop being a quivering pillbug no matter how hard he tries.

"But—I'll tell you one thing for sure!" the 10 cries, desperate to calm down Raivis in some way. "_I _am not going to hurt you."

Raivis isn't visibly comforted. It's questionable whether he was really listening or not.

"I'm... not going to hurt anyone," Amer mumbles, more to himself as he slowly gives up. "Maybe... Maybe I should just..." His gaze drags over to the armoured glove on the ground. He stares at it for a while, not jumping straight into things for once.

"But... But I can't make you guys kill each other!" he chokes out, gripping the sides of his head. "What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?" Almost at Raivis-level hysterics, he paces madly.

"Well, that part's easy. You're _supposed _to kill us both. The hard question is, what are you _going _to do?"

"Yeah... Yeah..." My input about as useless as I figured it would be, he just keeps mumbling to himself. "But... But the only way for you guys to not have to kill each other... is if... I..." I can see the chill travelling down his spine as he stops moving. "N-Nuh-uh. That... No. But..." Gradually becoming less coherent as the idea absorbs him, Amer continues to ramble in broken sentences before stopping and sitting down.

"O-Okay," he starts, addressing both me and Raivis. "Do you..." Voice quavering, he takes a deep breath. "...want me to... kuh-kuh..." He swallows. "...k-kill one of you?"

**Raivis Lithu, District 12**

My heart stops. So does my breathing and my rocking.

Prying my face away from my knees despite the instinct screaming for me not to leave their comfort, I study Amer. He's shaking a little now, his gaze dropped to the ground in a cringe.

"I... I don't," he finally continues, fighting for every word, "_want _to kuh-kuh... d-do it, but... if... if it would be better for y-you..."

I just stare at him, a steady flame of increased panic welling up in me that I'm too strained to put out. Amer can barely bring himself to return my gaze, and a little tang of guilt wells up at the back of my throat before he looks back down.

"Would you really do it?" Eston's voice is so quiet I can barely make out the words.

Amer flicks his gaze to Eston. "I'll try my hardest. I mean, we all know I'm not doing it because-because I have anything against you, right?"

"We know," Eston responds.

Amer looks at me desperately, and, breath quickening, I rapidly nod a yes.

"I just can't-can't leave this world knowing I'm making you kill each other, that... That's all..."

We sit in so tense a silence I can't help but curl up again. It's oddly comforting, hearing nothing but your own breath as it puffs up warm against your thighs. It's not comforting enough, but... It's all I've got.

"Okay."

With a gasp that's more of a reflex than a reaction to anything, I pop my head back up to see what's happening.

"Yeah?" Amer says slowly.

Eston closes his eyes. "I'm amazed you would do that for us, Amer. While I... I can't honestly say I'm ready to put my life on the line, I know I could never kill him." He looks at me for just a second before turning back to Amer. "Thank you."

Shaken—figuratively and literally—by the thought Amer's really going to kill one of us, my brain decides to stop working and my mouth to start.

"You can't die!" I blurt out. "N-neither of you! Amer, y-you're too good, a-and Eston! You-you're too smart! You could _do _something with your l-life, when I... Compared t-to you guys, I'm just... worthless..." My mind finally catches up, and I put my forehead back on top of my knees. "But that d-doesn't mean I want t-to d-die!" Half-choking on tears, I decide to just focus on breathing.

"None of us want to die," Amer mutters. "But I'd rather die than let anything hurt my friends."

"Thank you," Eston says again gravely. He allows for a moment of silence before turning himself to face me.

"Let's decide this, then," he exhales.

"D-decide what?" I stammer stupidly.

He rubs a thumb across his forehead.

"Which of us is going to live."


	30. Saviour

**Raivis Lithu, District 12**

I stare blankly at Eston.

"H-How are we s-supposed to decide th-that?" I get out. "L-Like Amer said, n-none of us wants to d-d-die!"

Amer raises his hand slowly. "At least one of us deserves to." He looks down. "You know, it's just between you two."

Eston gives a single, silent nod and turns back toward me. "So. Neither of us wants to decide?"

"I-I guess n-not..." I trail off, jaw trembling, as I struggle to keep myself from giving in to my cowardice and begging my life be the one spared. I want to live! But I-I... After everything he's done for me, I can't tell him to die!

I keep myself in such a strained tenseness I don't notice Eston patting the ground for a few moments. I think to ask him what he's doing, but my mouth has suddenly gone dry. He moves around the crater a bit, sifting through all of the small rocks and carefully examining the flatter ones, like trying to find something to skip over a pond. Finally he seems to find the right one, and he walks back over to me, laying his jacket out in front of us.

Swallowing, I give him a questioning look. He holds the rock, its half-square half-circle shape flat on his palm, out to me. "This is heads." He flips the rock over, revealing a tiny crack snaking down the centre. "This is tails."

I eye the rock for another few seconds and clear my throat. "We're... g-going to... just flip a c-coin?"

"If you're all right with that. We might as well have something else decide for us if we can."

"I... I g-guess there's nothing wrong with that," I respond faintly.

"And we agree... Whatever it says, we'll follow it, right?"

Not knowing how there could be any other choice, I give a nod.

"All right." Eston exhales. "Heads or tails?"

One of the simplest questions imaginable. It doesn't take any logic or anything. But the thought that my very life depends on what I'm going to say next stupifies me.

"U-u-u-u-uh... He-ta-u-um..." The slightest bit of impatience appears on Eston's face, and squeezing my eyes tight, I blurt out, "Tails!"

"Okay." Eston exhales slowly. "If the crack shows you... win your life, and if the other side shows, I win."

Breathing rate escalating, I just nod again.

His arm shaking a bit, Eston stands, holding his fist out with the stone perched upon his thumb. He takes a deep breath and flicks the makeshift coin straight up. The stone spins silent, gracefully, in slow-motion as it climbs.

And then I suddenly remember what it meansand snap my gaze back away from it. I can't watch! I c-can't watch!

My vision blocked off my the crook of my arm, the sound of my heart throbbing away seems to get overwhelmingly loud. But I can still hear a little _thump _when the rock hits the ground.

"Raivis?" Eston starts.

"I know, I know," I sputter back rapidly, not budging. "I-I can't look... I can't l-look..."

"Come on, Raivis," he murmurs, taking my wrist to move my arm away. I clench my elbow tighter in panic. "Raivis. Just look so you know what the coin flip decided."

Breath quivering, I loosen up my arm the slightest bit, and Eston coaxes it away from my face. I see the little dark spot resting on Eston's jumper, but itakes a minute before I can actually see it in detail.

It's as flat as possible, somehow having landed on a level patch of ground. And, barely perceptible, a little fissure twists across it.

Tails.

**Eston von Bock, District 7**

I have to stiffly control my breathing when I look back at that little stone, the little pebble that spells my death.

"Who is it?" Amer starts, not having the sharpness of vision necessary to pick out the details of either side of the rock.

"Raivis won," I reply, voice a little coarse.

Okay..." Amer turns his gaze to Raivis, who is still looking at the ground stunned.

"Do you..." I exhale. "Do you mind if I go have a... a little time by myself?"

Amer looks back toward me to address me, but won't meet my gaze. "Go right ahead."

With a nod of thanks, I shake the rock off my jacket and onto the crater floor, where it can't be readily made out. I throw my jacket over my shoulder and walk a ways. The crater wall is shorter here, so I can mount it one-handed. I have to be more careful afterward, since all of the mountain slopes downward from here, but I keep progressing down until I can no longer see any figuresabove me. Nothing but rock. I take my jumper, wad it up into a plate-sized lump, press my face into it...

And scream as hard as I can.

The layers of cloth muffle it enough not to bring the others running, so I just keep at it. I finally lose control over my tear ducts, so I remove my glasses and start sponging away around my eyes with the jacket.

So this is it. I'm really going to die. Just like that. All of my past, my present, my future up in a wisp of smoke. Everything I've done, all of my friends, all of my family, everything I ever wanted to do with my life—gone. Just gone.

I was going to be an inventor. Just like every other District 3-wannabe, I wanted more than just a technician, just a computer whiz. I love working with all of the technology, but wouldn't it be great if I could make something better? Instead of just compensating for glitches in the program, make a new one? I wouldn't be the guy that cures cancers, but I could help so much with digital communication. Less glitches, less misunderstandings... Who knows what could be avoided just by getting the right point across?

I guess I'll never find out. I'll never be the guy whose innovation prevents the next war. I'll just be that one kid who fixed the mayor's computer. I'll just be that one kid who died in the Hunger Games. Gee, no one else fits that description.

So I'm just going to sit down and die and be another nobody. But that's what I promised, and that's what that perfectly fai coin flip decided.

...I could go back on my word. I've done it before. But... How am I supposed to walk up to that scarred, timid little kid and tell him, "Changed my mind. You're going to die." No, there's no way I could do that. Not after everything I've done to make sure he didn't go over the edge. If nothing else, I'll at least make a difference to him. I won't lie and say I'm completely satisfied with just that.

But it will have to do.

**Amer Jones, District 10**

Rubbing a finger over one my glove's plates, I stare up at the sky. So. I have to figure out how exactly I'm gonna kill Eston and myself.

Killing myself, that's the easy part. After all I've done to destroy people, to destroy their families and their hopes and dreams... I feel sick just knowing I'm still being given the chance to live. There's no way for me to undo it, so killing myself is the only way I can even try to make it right. So I'll do it. I may want to go home, to be with my family and friends again, but I can't. I don't deserve that. Not after what I've done.

But then there's Eston. He doesn't deserve to die. Unlike me, he's done everything right. He hasn't killed anyone, and when I terrified Raivis by killing Vahn, Eston was there to help him. I couldn't do anything. He's been a better friend to Raivis than I have.

How am I supposed to kill him? I... I offered it in the first place because I can't stand the thought of them having to kill each other. But they're still my friends! People I've sworn to protect! So... So what am I protecting them from? ...Having to kill each other. Having to hate themselves for it.

And then it hits me.

I'm saving him from having to be like me.

It's probably about five minutes after Eston left when he comes back. His face is expressionless, but his eyes are red and puffy from crying.

I almost lose all motivation right then and there. But I-I have to do this. I have to save him from turning into a wretch like me. And... I have to save Raivis from death.

Unable to keep my gaze on Eston's tearstained face, I look over at Raivis. He's still curled up, but not nearly as tight, and although his shivering hasn't gone away, somehow I can tell it's not from fear of anything.

At least I can save him. I'll have to break my promise to my brother to come home, but I won't have to break my promise to Raivis. No one's going to hurt him. He's not going to die. And he's not going to have a drop of blood on his hands.

I take a deep breath, wiping a little sweat off my brow as Eston sits in front of me, head bowed. I drag my gaze to the ground as I pull on the glove.

"G-guys!" comes a choked sound. We both look over at Raivis, rushing toward us. Eston and I are sitting close enough that Raivis can put an arm around both of us. "Th-thank you s-so much," he struggles to say through sorrowful tears. "I-I don't deserve th-this..." He sniffles. "I-I love you guys!"

"We love you, too, Raivis," Eston and I reply in imperfect unison.

We sit for a while, in the first and last group hug we'll ever have. Raivis timidly starts to pull away.

"Now..." I draw in a shuddering breath. "T-turn around, Raivis." I can almost feel my heart twisting in my chest as I realise I'm about to really go through with this. "You don't need to see this."

Still sniffling, Raivis gives us one last tearful look before facing away from us.

"You're sure..." I exhale. "You're sure you want to do this?"

Unable to speak, Eston just nods, pulling his hood up and over his eyes.

Shaking so hard from crying I'm not sure I'll be able to aim right, I pull my glove over my hand a little tighter.

I can't believe I'm going to do this to him. It's going to hurt so much. But... But I'm protecting Raivis. And I'm protecting Eston. And that's all I've been aiming to do.

Clenching my teeth, I run the blades through his throat, and, before I can watch him die, rip open my own.


	31. Parallel

**Raisa Nerne, District 12**

"There are other fish in the sea, Raisa!"

My forehead doesn't budge from my arms crossed atop the diner table's edge. "But they're _other _fish!" I wail quietly. "They're not him!"

I hear Sabel sigh nowhere near soft enough to not sound irritated. "How do you know he's your 'true love', anyway? You haven't spoken to him once!"

I come up out of my arms with a furied blush. "What about when I lent him a pencil?" Remembering his quiet thanks as he looked straight into my eyes—even the imagination of him is so adorable I almost swoon. Until I remember all my chances with him are blown.

"That doesn't count," Sabel replies as I put my head back in my arms.

"Besides," Sladana enters slowly, still sipping at her drink, "you don't know for sure he'll ignore you now."

"Why wouldn't he?" I defend despairingly. "He'd never believe I just love him for him! He-he-he won the Games, and now he'll think I'm in it for the money, or f-fame, o-or..." My sniffles starting back up again, I temporarily lift my head to wipe my nose. "Wh-hy did I n-never ask him sooner?"

"Because you're a wimp," Sabel answers. Offended for me, Sladana elbows my sister in the ribs.

"It's okay, Raisa," Sladana assures me. "If you just tell him how you feel, he could understand."

"H-How am I supposed to do th-that?" I choke out.

"Well," Sabel exhales, rubbing her side where my best friend hit her, "you could look to your right."

"Wh-what?" I'm so confused I actually turn to look across the single aisle in the run-down diner. The booth across from us seats two boys across from each other, a short-haired blonde who seems familiar, and someone whose face is halfway buried in the folded menu.

The half I can see clearly belongs to Raivis.

But I must be imagining things! There-there-there's no way he could—! No way!

But as he starts to pull away from the menu, I can see his entire profile, and I know it's him. I'm so frozen I don't quite realise _he just pulled his face out of the menu_ for a few seconds.

After a short trail of incoherent splutters, I finally squeak out, "H-Hide me!" and try to push myself under the table.

"Raisa—Raisa!" Sladana nudges me with her foot before my head goes under. "Stop it!"

"B-b-b-b-b-but he-he..." My throat closes up just long enough to keep me from saying any more.

"You're going to draw attention to yourself," Sabel points out, standing up to sit on my side of the table. Thankful she's substantially thicker than me and thus a good person behind whom to hide, I shakily pull myself back to a normal sitting position. I squish myself as small as possible, sitting right up against my sister so there's no way I could be seen.

"Wh-wh-wh-wh," I start, slowly regaining the ability to whisper, "why didn't you t-tell me he was r-right there?"

"He just walked in a second ago," Sladana answers sheepishly.

"H-how long? He—" I gasp. "He-he couldn't have h-heard me, right?" To my horror, Sabel just shrugs. "Please tell me he-he didn't hear me!" I moan, resisting the urge to rest my forehead on the diner table.

"Wouldn't it be a good thing if he heard your true feelings, though?" Sladana puts in. I just mumble in response.

"Hey! Raisa!"

I jump, looking around wildly to place the voice that doesn't belong to either of my companions. Fear welling up in my stomach, I timidly twist to see the boy sitting across from Raivis waving. I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and embarrassedly duck back behind my sister. With a roll of her eyes, Sabel stands up and moves to the other side of the table.

"Wh-wh-wha-a..." I trail off.

The boy—I now recognise him as Raivis's remaining brother—smiles at me and continues, "My brother wants to ask you on a date! He's just too chicken!"

"E-E-E-Esto!" Raivis stammers.

"What? That's what you want, isn't it?"

"But—ju—you—the—bu—Y-You're not supposed to j-just..." He trails off, nervously putting his face back in the menu.

"So! Date or what?" Esto calls, looking back toward me.

The thought of Raivis actually going on a date with me renders me speechless, so Sabel rolls her eyes for the upteenth time and says yes for me. Ravis's and my more outgoing siblings have just begun to specify details when I finally enter a brief excited hysteria and faint.

**Raivis Lithu, District 12**

Still wondering exactly how I got myself into this, I waver at Raisa's doorstep. My hand stays poised above the wood for a few long minutes before I finally cave in and knock. I hear footsteps approaching, and I nervously fiddle with my shirt's uppermost button. The door swings open, and my breath catches.

Raisa's muddy blue eyes only meet my gaze for a moment before darting to her shoes.

"U-Um," I start, trying to flinch when she looks back up at me, "good e-evening?"

Raisa nods hard enough to make her tangled brown hair fly about before stammering a greeting back. We're back in awkward silence for another moment before I can bring myself to speak again.

"Do you want to... u-uh, go ahead to the restaurant?" I hold my elbow out awkwardly for her to hook arms. Not quite able to form words, Raisa accepts my invitation, and we start walking.

Although it takes a while to walk to the place, we don't say a word on the way there. By the time we're seated and poring over the short menu—we're in the nicest section in District 12, but still a far cry from the Capitol—the silence has gotten so unnerving I'm actually able to start a conversation.

"S-so, um, you've... been wanting to date me?" I nearly slap myself for starting in the most awkward way possible.

I only catch a glance of Raisa's deepening blush before snapping my gaze back to the menu. "U-uh-huh," she finally replies breathlessly. "F-for a... while now?"

I'm about to ask her why before I stop myself. It's getting too hard to talk as is. "So... So why would you think my... m-my winning the Games would make me..." I trail off, halfway forgetting what I'm trying to ask.

"Oh... I-I... I don't know... Maybe I-I was just looking for reasons y-you... y-you wouldn't like me."

The waiter's arrival saves me from having to say something immediately, but once he gets our orders, I'm back in the hot seat. I still haven't decided how I'm supposed to respond to that when _it_ starts creeping in again. My headache. Gripping the edge of the table, I try to make it go away with sheer force of will, but I know it's not going to work. But of all times—my first date? _Now_? Well... I guess she would have found out eventually... Trying not to let the steadily increasing pain show on my face, I shakily flag down the waiter and order a shot, quietly, like maybe Raisa won't notice.

She looks at me half-confused, half-intimidated, and I can't look her in the eye. "I'm sorry," I mumble. "I-I..." Taking a deep breath, I just decide to spill everything. "I went on a-a bad drinking binge after I g-got back from the Games. It started t-to get out of control, a-and I've been trying to stop ever since..." I cringe, not wanting to go into detail there. "But i-it's only been a few months..." Suddenly desperate, I look into her eyes. "I—Raisa, I-I'm not the person you think I am! I'm not still th-that innocent kid that sits next to you in school. I... I... I don't know wh-what you loved about me, b-but... I... I'm not that good anymore. You-you just h-have to understand, you deserve b-better than me!" I gulp loudly, my own voice driving up my headache and my breathing rate.

"You..." Raisa takes in a shuddering breath. "D-don't say things like that!" she cries, leaning forward. "I know y-you're not exactly the same, but... But you deserve _something _for e-everything you've had to go through!"

Everything I've had to go through... The image of that last moment in the arena... I didn't have to see it the first time, but the Capitol made sure I got a good view of it later. I can almost understand why I started drinking. But... I still got out easy. Because of them, because of their sacrifice, I don't have to be guilty about it. Even if it was up to that coin flip, Eston went willingly so I could live. Amer killed so I wouldn't have to. So I can still live life.

I look back up at Raisa, quivering slightly and still blushing so much I can't make out her natural skin tone. "You... th-think so?" I mumble. She just squeezes her eyes shut and nods.

The waiter comes back with everything we ordered, including my liquor. I feel even more guilty about drinking it in front of her, but I just can't help it with how crushing my headache has become.

We eat in silence. She doesn't say anything when I pay for all of it because she knows, on top of being polite, it's just much more logical for the rich guy to pay for things. We walk back to her house in the same silence, and soon we're back at her porch. We stand there for a while, wondering how to say goodbye.

Well... It _is_ a date... Are we supposed to... kiss?

"Um... Good night," I start, leaning a little closer. Suddenly aware of the alcohol still in my breath, I go for her cheek. Just a peck. But it's enough to make me feel warm—a different kind of heat than that radiating from her fierce blush.

"G-good night," Raisa breathes, her voice trilling with delight.

I slowly pull myself away to return home but feel no less warm.

* * *

"_I c-c-can't d-d-d-do th-th-this!_" I wail, not loosening my grip.

"Oh, come _on_, Raivis!" my brother groans, still trying to pull me away from the mattress by my feet. "You're going to mess up your tux!"

"I-I-I-I-I-I c-can't go out th-th-there!" I hyperventilate, iron grip keeping me from being moved. Esto finally lets me go and walks around to my head.

"Okay. Let me get this straight," he starts. "You love her."

"Y-y-y-yes."

"You _want_ to marry her."

"Y-y-y-yes."

"Then what are you so afraid of?" he asks exasperatedly.

"I d-d-don't know!" I respond, shaking. "Just-just wh-what if it all g-g-g-goes wrong? Wh-wh-what if she... If... I-I-I don't know..." I bury my face in my mattress.

"Come on," Esto sighs, prying all nine of my fingers away from the bed one by one as I start to lose resistance. "Nothing's going to go wrong. Now just get out there, will you? She's waiting on you."

Taking a shuddering breath, I allow him to pull me to my feet. He smiles at me and guides me through the hallways and into our backyard, which is all done up in bows and flowers for the wedding. I'm still in a muted panic as the ritual starts to proceed, but I manage to keep the quivering under control, and I don't bring on one of those ever-lessening-in-frequency headaches. We end up at our vows, and I'm so hypnotised by Raisa—done up in her Capitol-grade dress, hair in a swirling updo that cascades down the sides of her pleasantly red face—I can get through the heartfelt lines without my tongue stumbling.

"You may now kiss the bride."

My eyes are still trained on Raisa, tears of joy sweeping down her beautiful face.

And for once in my life, I don't hesitate.

* * *

_And that is what would have happened if Amer stopped Raivis._


	32. If Lude Spared Ciano

_Alternate Ending IV: What if Lude spared Ciano?_

Everything is the same until chapter 28 of _Brutal_. The POV's of Switz Wingly and Ciano Idalya are the same as they were in the original story.

* * *

**Switz Wingly, District 7**

The two small eggs—our alliance's pitiful excuse for breakfast this morning—sizzle weakly on the sun-baked rock beneath them. I poke at the eggs, and then, satisfied I don't need to keep a watchful eye on them, turn my gaze back toward the lake. While the jagged wall of stone separates me from the water and—more importantly—my sister, there wasn't any hope of food inside the crater. I didn't stray far—there are a few scrubby excuses for trees along the mountain—and I at least got us a little bit of food, so... It's better than nothing.

I turn back to the rocks and prod the eggs again.

"...Switz?" a sleepy voice calls. I jump to my feet and step over to the rocky wall.

"I'm here."

"Okay..." My sister, who had been lying across the thin shoreline to sleep, sits up and yawns. "Good morning!"

"Good morning." I nod back to where the eggs are still cooking. "Breakfast'll be ready in just a minute."

"Okay." Liet gets up and leans over the ledge, spotting the aforementioned breakfast. "Just one egg each, then?"

"Ah! No," I start, walking over to the makeshift stove. "They're both for you."

"Oh?" Liet cocks her head to the side. "What about you?"

"I already ate."

"Oh, okay," she replies, sounding like she believes me.

I have to wonder, though, if she really does. I've pulled that excuse several times—with just District 7 salaries, there were too many mouths to feed at home, but I always made sure she had her share. Even if I hadn't had my own.

_Clink!_

My head snaps to the side, where—instead of the enemy I expected—I see a parachute.

Carefully lifting it away, as if it could be some sort of trap, I reveal a plate with enough cheese and crackers for a good one-person meal.

"Oh! We got a donation!" Liet chirps, scuffling over to the dish.

"Yeah." I pick one of the crackers up and turn back toward my little sister. "More for us to share."

**Ciano Idalya, District 6**

I stare down at the empty plate mournfully. My donated meals have shrunk and shrunk, and now I'm always hungry.

And I miss my ally. I'm really really glad he's okay, but... I want him back. It's really lonely out here...

A scuffling in the bushes snatches my attention away from my thoughts. I turn toward the source slowly, not sure if I had imagined it or not. The bushes rustle again. I stand up and start to back away, bumping into the Corncucopia before the bushes suddenly split open. I scuffle away, toward the far edge of the meadow, while two... dogs? emerge from the gap.

Pressed up against the crater's edge, I watch curiously as the dogs—who are about half as tall as me—pace forward slowly. The morning sun illuminates their light brown fur and their glittering, black eyes—aimed toward me.

"Um... Good doggie?" The two stop in their tracks, pricking their fuzzy ears up and continuing to stare me down. We all stand frozen for a few seconds, and then, with a throaty growl, the dogs lunge suddenly.

With an exclamation, I heave myself over the wall, narrowly avoiding a set of snapping jaws, and start running blindly ahead. Rocks jut out along my path, but I'm able to scrabble over them before the dogs come after me.

After hurling myself over another outcropping, I risk a quick glance back at the dogs. They're still behind, but... have they gotten closer?

Either way, I'm still running. Because these guys are scary, and I don't want to run into scary things!

**Lude Ermany, District 2**

"Yes," Vivi spits at Alf, "of _course _he's going to kill you—not! He's already _dead! _How is he supposed to even touch you? Idiot!"

I continue polishing my morningstar, trying to block out the pointless argument that's already been going on far too long.

"I'm gonna die!" Alf wails for the upteenth time. "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna d—"

"Shut _up _or I'll do the honours _right now_!" I finally interrupt, glaring at Alf. He manages to shut his mouth—for once in his life—though he continues trembling.

"I suggest we continue our hunt," Japan starts. "Since we didn't find anyone last night..."

"Agreed," Vivi replies, smiling slightly at the thought of more blood.

"Yeah," Alf starts, looking about back to normal. "I—" He cuts off with a sudden shriek, jumping up in the air. "He's here!"

"No, he's not, Alf," Japan sighs, quickly surveying the area. "If you're going to be acting like this, you shouldn't come hunt with us."

"Agreed," Vivi repeats hostilely, crossing her arms. "Let's ship off now. Lude, are you ready?"

I grunt a confirmation and stand.

"You can't just leave me behind!" Alf protests. "I mean, I'm a Career, to—Ohmygod!" He jumps back from us. It takes me a second to realise he'd reacted this way to a twig snapping in front of him.

"Yeah..." Vivi glares, then turns her back to him pointedly. "We're leaving now." She flips herself over the savannah crater's edge, and Japan and I do the same.

"Where shall we start?" Japan begins, surveying the mountainside.

"Hmm..." Vivi and I scan the area for a moment.

"Ah!" Vivi starts, pointing down to below the swamp crater. "Another tribute!" Without another word, she takes off in that direction, Japan behind her and me bringing up the rear.

We're making good progress, even though the tribute below is moving around the mountain at a particularly quick pace. A while before we get to the tribute, though, I notice something else, something the tribute must be fleeing from.

Dingoes.

Well, something similar to dingoes, at least—probably some sort of Capitol mutt versions, considering their unearthly amount of razor-sharp teeth.

Well, mutt or not, they're making good progress in the tribute's direction. They'd easily catch up and finish him themselves, but Vivi won't let that happen. She just has to dig her own nails into all the corpses.

Finally, we near the tribute enough for me to make him out—and I almost stop in my tracks.

It's Ciano.

But I don't stop. He'll get eaten by the mutts if I don't intervene.

—What am I thinking? "Friend" or not, he's another tribute. He has to die. There's no use in saving him now.

I continue after the other Careers to find that Vivi has already eliminated one of the dingoes—I'm assuming it had turned on her—and is quite ready to take on the second. Japan is pulling up ahead of her, still in pursuit of Ciano.

I overtake Vivi as she slays the second dingo. She follows me without hesitation.

Japan catches up with Ciano, pinning him inescapably against a boulder. Now Vivi and I catch up.

"Please don't hurt me!" Ciano wails, unable to struggle from Japan's hold. "I-I'll do anything!"

Vivi scoffs. "We don't want anything from you but your blood." She raises her blade to strike, but suddenly falters, dropping her sickle to the stone with a clang. Japan turns his head, and we both see for the first time a horrible-looking bite wound on her shoulder. She must have gotten it in her fight with the mutts.

Japan turns back to his prey, raising a blade—which is considerably smaller than his swords—toward the pinned tribute.

"Help!" Ciano continues tearfully. He cranes his neck a little, looking me in the eye. "L-Lude! Please help me!"

Japan turns his head toward me curiously, pausing in his kill for a moment.

I... could take him. Just him and an injured Vivi, and I could save this scrap of a tribute. I mean, I haven't known Ciano long, but he's a likable enough guy to...

...Who am I kidding? Japan is faster than me. If I turn on him, he'd see it coming and kill me first.

So, I'll... I'll leave well enough alone...

"Here." I draw back when Japan holds his knife, handle forward, to me. "Why don't you claim this kill?"

I take the knife experimentally, and Japan draws back, just enough to continue pinning down the sobbing Ciano. I stare at the knife uncomprehendingly.

"What's wrong, Lude?" Vivi starts with a small laugh. "Don't want to kill your little buddy?"

I look back down at Ciano, who's almost crying and sniffling too much to say anything. "L-Lude," is all he can quite eke out.

I stare back at the knife in my hand.

I... I could always try taking on the others, but... I know I could barely get out alive in a fight with Japan, let alone Vivi...

But... This snivelling, powerless tribute before me... I really did start to like him.

I glance back at the other Careers. In theory, it's their lives, or his.

But I'm not strong enough to take them both. And if I spare Ciano, they wouldn't hesitate to kill me.

Or... Would they? Vivi would, but she's too injured to kill me on the spot. And Japan... I know he's testing my allegiance, but he's a rational guy. Would he really kill me if I didn't do this?

My pulse is rushing through my ears, and I'm thoroughly convinced this is the most idiotic thing I've ever done and ever will do.

I drop the blade.

"Let him go."

Japan looks at me evenly, analytically, for a minute before letting go of Ciano's shoulders. Wailing, the 6 latches onto me with a string of mostly-incoherent thank yous. Vivi bares her teeth at me, guaranteeing I'll pay for this the second she's back in fighting condition. I look back toward Japan, who has not made any move toward killing me.

"Thank you for understanding," I mutter, dropping my gaze.

"All right." Japan closes his eyes. "I thought you were one of the few people who took this seriously, but I was wrong. Know that you have lost my respect and my trust, and don't expect to gain either back." He turns his back to me, preparing to start climbing back up. "I hope you understand the sacrifice you've made." He starts climbing, assisting Vivi after him.

I look down at Ciano, who still hasn't let go of me.

I hope I understand, too.

Exhaling and telling Ciano to move to my back so he doesn't trip me up, I start after my allies.


	33. Relationships

Author's Note: I haven't rambled about it recently, so I feel the need to thank my reviewers now. I love you all. You not only have the patience to keep up with this huge series but also take the time to give me feedback, some of you even going every chapter. So thanks. Thanks a _bunch._

The POV's of Thew Canda and Austria Edel here are the same as they were in the original story.

* * *

**Thew Canda, District 3**

_Crack!_ The sharp rock in my hand bangs against the stones as the snake dodges. Panting, I retreat a few steps and watch my lost breakfast disappear back into the rocks.

Crap. That's probably the only food I'm going to find. Especially with the steady return of my headache—it's bad enough to make even the cool temperature around the swamp crater unbearable. And don't even mention the pounding it causes from even the slightest movement.

It's not fun. And I'm getting the creeping suspicion I'm not going to get any more painkillers donated.

Especially after how badly I screwed up last night. Alf had better be having some wicked sort of psychological breakdown right now, or I've undoubtedly lost all of my sponsors.

Which, of course, means I won't get any food donated, either. So, nothing to eat, because I screwed up earlier, and because I can't do anything now because I can't get any food.

I really hate the Hunger Games.

**Ciano Idalya, District 6**

It's just past lunchtime when we finally get to the Careers' crater. Lude shrugs me off his back, pushes himself over the wall with one arm, and turns to watch me. Since his wall-jumping technique looks so cool, I decide to try and get over that way. I'm sideways and almost on top of the ridge when my elbow buckles. With a surprised "wah!" I start to tumble backward, and in a second, I'm only still this high up because one of my feet is hooked on the wall.

Not attempting to stifle his sigh, Lude slowly shakes his head and seizes my foot, pulling me up into the crater like I'm a length of rope. I let out a sound of relief and thank him as I get to my feet. He nods in acceptance, and I look around the crater curiously. The first thing I notice is all of the grass. It seems familiar for some weird reason... Was I here? I've only been to a couple of craters, and—

This is where the lion was!

Alarmed, I jump after Lude—who must have started walking toward the supply pile—and cling to him for protection.

"What?" He cranes his neck to look at me. "We already know these two aren't going to hurt you here, and, believe me, Alf's in no condition to try it, either."

"Wha-at about the lion?" I start, voice wavering with fear. Lude looks at me funny for a minute before his expression suddenly changes to an "I remember now" kind of one.

"Ah. I took care of him the minute we got into this crater. I'm pretty sure even his meat's not around anymore." He glances at Alf for some reason.

"Oh! Okay!" I go back to smiling at Lude. "So you protected me from him before I even got here? You're _really_ good at this!"

"Uh-huh..." Although the corners of his mouth don't move much, I can see a trace of amusement in his eyes. "Now... would you mind letting go of me since that's all cleared up?"

"Hrm?" It takes me a second to realise I'm still latched onto him. "Oh..." I let go.

"Thanks."

I follow as he continues toward the supply pile, where the scary, black-haired Career is sorting through a few bags and boxes of food.

"Yay! We're having lunch!" I look up at Lude, my voice turning sad. "I didn't get to have _any _breakfast this morning."

"Is... that so?" Lude asks stiffly, not quite sure how to respond. "Well... you get to eat now."

I nod cheerfully while the black-haired Career pauses to look up at us, his eyes unreadable. Unnerved again, I zip back behind Lude, who seems to have already gotten used to this. The scary tribute exhales and goes back to work, setting out four plates and a piece of dried meat. Without a word, he distributes two plates to Alf, who's sitting against the edge staring at the ground suspiciously, and the scary girl, who must have gotten her shoulder patched up when I wasn't paying attention. The black-haired Career hands another of the plates, as well as the piece of something-jerky, to Lude and then sits next to the other plate and starts eating.

Lude stares at the plate for a minute before starting to understand and handing me the dried meat. He looks over at the black-haired Career, who meets his gaze.

"We are eating to stay strong," he says simply. "He is eating to stay alive."

Lude exhales and sits, downing his meal. I nibble at my ration hungrily, a little disappointed he won't give me any of his. But he's really not eating that much more than me, anyway...

"We should try hunting for more food today," Lude comments. Feeling like he read my mind, I let my jaw drop.

"I agree." The quiet-scary Career finishes his rations and stacks the plate carefully. He looks up at Lude. "I will allow you to do it if you take him with you."

Bristling at being put below his teammate, Lude doesn't answer for a minute.

"...All right," he finally grunts, putting his empty plate on the ground and standing. He gives the black-haired Career an unfriendly look. "Since I'm such an untrustworthy child to you, I suppose I should let you know I'll be checking the swamp crater first."

The other Career makes no motion to show he's heard. With an angry-sounding sigh, Lude wraps his fingers back around his really scary weapon and walks, motioning to me to follow him. Definitely ready to get away from the scary people, I scurry after him.

**Austria Edel, District 8**

Veta checks around the corner one last time for any other tributes before turning back toward me. She clasps my hands, her twitching mouth evidence she's suppressing a giggle fit.

"I can't believe we're really going to do this," she starts, the words coming almost too fast for me to understand them.

"Well," I start with a sly smile, "if you'd rather not..."

"Of course I want to!" she responds immediately. "It just seems so silly, right in the middle of the Hunger Games... But don't get me wrong! I definitely, _definitely_ want to do this."

"All right, then. How shall we start?"

"Um..." She looks down at her feet and laughs. "We've been planning it for three months, and I don't think we ever figured a way to start it off."

"Well... We could always skip straight to the vows."

"Ah, I guess so. But..." She shuffles her feet a bit. "Don't we need to have someone read from the wedding book? Or whatever that is?"

"This isn't exactly a conventional wedding, Veta."

"That's true," she laughs, looking back up at me. "So... how do the vows start again?" We stare at each other for a moment, both obviously unsure, and then Veta bursts out laughing. "We never figured that out, either? What have we been _doing _the past three months?"

I think carefully. "Picking out a dress and a cake. And some tablecloths, if I remember correctly."

She continues her badly stifled laughter, and I chuckle a bit myself.

"Well... Let's see... What _do _we know of the vows, then?" she proposes. "Um... 'In sickness and in health'...? Isn't there an 'in sickness and in health' part?"

"I think so..." I trail off laughing. "All right, what else...?" We pause in thought, though we don't quite stop laughing. "'For richer and for poorer'?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's part of it," Veta agrees. "Um..."

"I think that's enough."

"Okay, yeah, that's enough." She laughs. "Who goes first?"

"I'll let you," I reply, taking off my ring and putting it into the palm of her hand. She does the same, while I take a deep breath before starting. "Do you, Veta Ungar, take… _me _to be your lawfully wedded husband, to… have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, so long as we both shall live?"

"I do.' She twirls the ring around in her fingers before starting. "And do you, Austria Edel, take me to be your lawfully wedded wife…" She trails off, staring at me.

"'To have and to hold'," I prompt.

"Right, right!" She clears her throat before continuing, "To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer… so long as we both shall live?"

"I do."

Veta looks at the ring in her hand. "These are next, right?"

"Yes. I… can't quite recall at the moment what we're supposed to say, but…"

"Oh, it's the thought that counts," she laughs, gripping my ring carefully around the edges. "I'll go first."

I spread my hand out like I'm about to play a piano chord, and she slips the ring over my finger easily. She then follows my example, and her ring is soon in its proper place as well.

My eyes turn up from her fingers to her smiling face. "I now pronounce us man and wife."

Her grin spreads. "You may now kiss the bride."

And I do just that.


	34. Give In

Author's Note: Although they do not appear here, the circumstances surrounding the following have not changed: Switz and Liet fleeing from the pony, Gil being attacked by the eagle mutt, Thew finding the moonseed berries, and Gil and Russia battling and encountering Switz and Liet.

* * *

**Japan Hond, District 4**

Lude and Ciano walk away, leaving me to clean up after them. Luckily, this only involves a single plate, which I silently stack on top of mine. I sit for a moment before suddenly realising I forgot to hand out our canteens. Exhaling, I pick out three and walk over to the general area containing Alf and Vivi.

Briefly apologising for not distributing these earlier, I set a canteen by each of them and unscrew the lid of my own.

I'm letting myself get too distracted by this whole... situation. Lude has clearly expressed he will place Ciano above this alliance. He can no longer be trusted wholly, and that's all there is to say about it. I have nothing to regret about this because I would have to gain suspicion of him at some point in the Games. So our friendship was shattered sooner rather than later. Breaking bonds is still a necessity, and I cannot do anything to change that.

I'm suddenly yanked out of my thoughts by a frantic, high-pitched splutter. Although I can't pick out any words, I can tell it's Alf before I look over at him.

"All right, what's wrong _now_?" Vivi growls, screwing the cap back onto her canteen.

"It-it-he-the-this one-it-it-h-he poisoned it!" Alf wails. "He-the ghost-he-I saw him, and-and—"

"Will you _shut up _about your _freaking ghost_?" Vivi shouts, standing up and clenching her fists in frustration. She glares down at Alf. "I'm sick and tired of your idiotic ranting about something that obviously has not, does not, and never will exist!" She stomps toward Alf and snatches his canteen up. "This," she iterates, shaking the object, "is not poisoned! Just because your all-but-nonexistent brain says you saw that stupid 3 in bedsheets and angel wings sneak over and dump poison into this does not mean it happened!"

"No, I-I saw him! I—" Alf trails off, staring with disbelief as Vivi unscrews the cap of the supposedly-poisoned canteen. She leans back, takes a huge swig of it, and slaps the lid back on.

"See?" she growls, throwing the canteen back toward Alf. "Not poisoned!"

Alf scrambles back as the not-fully-closed bottle splashes some of its water onto the yellow grass before him.

"You-you just-!" Alf splutters, unable to complete his sentence.

"Yes," Vivi replies in a low-pitched tone, narrowing her eyes. "I just drank some unpoisoned... wa... water..." She suddenly collapses into a sitting position, looking bewildered.

Setting down my canteen, I hurry over, checking her shoulder wound. If she's lost too much blood, it would explain her disorientation.

But... It doesn't seem to be bleeding...

"Wh... what?" she mutters, planting her hands on the ground to keep her from swaying. "I... but... There's... There's no such thing as ghosts..."

"I-I warned you!" Alf declares. "I told you he poisoned it, but you—you wouldn't listen!"

"But..." Vivi wobbles, eyes sleepy. "I... N... No! I-I can't... I can't die like this!" she pants, sounding less worried than crazed. "There's... not enough... _blood_!" She just manages to push herself up, and then staggers a few steps to where her blade lies. Collapsing again, she holds the sickle high above her, hands shaking from the effort.

And with a guttural, insane laugh, she runs it deep through her throat.

**Veta Edel, District 8**

While we're not getting much for lunch—just two apples—my appetite's been mostly resolved by the slice of wedding cake our mentors had sent us a few minutes ago. The sponsors must have been going crazy for our wedding, considering the fancy, spiraling details in white icing on the side of that slice.

But I guess their support and funds can't last long. That's okay—we already got a pretty good "banquet" and two decently-sized canteens—but… You know. It's just something you'd like to last even though you know it won't.

Just like this whole marriage. I know it won't last, but… But…

…You know.

My thoughts are interrupted—thankfully—by the sound of footsteps nearby.

I glance over at my fiancé—I mean husband—next to me, and he seems to have noticed the same.

I check our surroundings. We're still in the same little outcropping, where we've yet to be found—but it's feeling a little too open all of a sudden.

"Would you like to find some different shelter?" Austria suggests in a low tone of voice. I nod.

The first of us to stand, I peek over the top of our shallow grotto. The nearby tribute—or tributes; I can't be sure I hear two pairs of footsteps, but I can pick out some sort of hushed conversation—still isn't in my range of sight.

"Which way should we go?" I whisper, ducking back down a little.

"Well, near the right of us is a swamp, but I've already encountered a muttated alligator there. I'm not sure how far away the next crater is."

The solid, slow footsteps—accompanied by excited, scampering ones—sound again.

"Let's take our chances going left, then."

**Lude Ermany, District 2**

"I'm not carrying you again."

Ciano looks hurt. "B-but I'm _tired_! And you carried me before!" His lower lip starts to wobble like he believes I've suddenly decided to abandon him.

"Before, you were recovering from almost losing your life," I counter, continuing onward at an irritatingly-slow pace so he won't get lost behind me.

"But... But..."

And then I make the mistake of turning to look at him. Right when he gets the puppy-dog eyes going.

I can literally feel my lower eyelid twitching as he blubbers at me with eyes on the verge of tears. With a disbelieving grimace, I turn my back to him.

"Climb on," I grumble, wondering what on earth I've gotten myself into.

"Yay!" Ciano pounces, cheerful once again, and wraps his arms around my neck. "Thank you, Lude!" he pipes in my ear.

"Yeah, yeah."

Progress to the swamp is painstakingly slow—I can easily carry a skinny kid like him for a while, but I already have one arm occupied, and I can't say I've been eating very well lately—but we get there eventually. I drop off Ciano at the outside of the ridge and tell him to stay. He doesn't find reason to follow me into the vile-smelling hole in the mountain.

When I throw myself into the crater, my boots immediately squelch into watery mud with such a foul stench I'm tempted to clamp a hand over my nose. I don't, though—how pathetic a soldier would I be if I couldn't even withstand a bad smell—and my shoes sink further into the mud as I swing my morningstar over the ledge next to me.

Hoping Ciano won't do anything to scare away potential meals, I stay as still as possible during my first surveyance of the area. There's not much to survey, though—just a few mouldy clusters of trees and vines surrounded by a flat sheet of filthily-brown water broken only by the occasional reed.

With an inhale of air vile enough to choke me a little, I start to trudge into the deeper parts of the mud and water. The level's barely gotten above my ankles before soft sticks and rotting leaves and squelching clumps of mud start to pour into my boots. It's far from pleasant, but it won't dissuade me. I'm not going back empty-handed—

Suddenly, I stop my movement.

Was that...?

Sure enough, Ciano is still on the other side of the wall, yet another splash sounds a few metres to my right.

I turn in that direction, gripping my weapon tightly as a thin ripple of a wave streaks toward me. I barely make out a set of small eyes before the attacker suddenly throws itself upward and lunges at me.

I whip my morningstar around before even thinking about it, and a large sploosh tells me I've sent my target back into the water. Pulling my arm away from me—it's pretty easy for my weapon to swing around and hit me if I'm not careful—I schlep over to where a bumpy something is just poking out of the water's surface. It's not moving in the least, so I'm very sure it's dead.

Reaching down, my hand brushes against more of the creature's rough skin until I find some sort of appendage. I grip it and heave the thing—which I now recognise as some sort of alligator—out of the swamp. The gator's a good half-metre taller than me and about twice as wide as my shoulders. He's a heavy brute, but he's dead, and he's supper.

I turn back toward Ciano, gator mutt in tow. The 6 gapes at me as I toss the alligator over the ridge and then climb over myself.

"Woooow," Ciano finally breathes, starstruck, as I sit down for a second to dump the swamp water out of my shoes. I only grunt in response, wringing out my socks and begrudgingly putting the still-unclean things back on. Grabbing the gator's arm, I stand and pull him back over my shoulder before looking back at Ciano.

"You know I'm not going to carry the both of you."

Ciano, somewhat snapped out of his trance, blinks. "Okay."


	35. Regrets

Author's Note: The POV of Austria Edel is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Japan Hond, District 4**

My back facing the meager pile of our remaining supplies, I stare down at the mountainside piercingly. A few groups of people are hurrying across, and while they don't seem to be planning on coming up here, it's no excuse to slack on my watch. Should anyone run away with even one meal's worth of rations, this alliance will be in trouble.

I cast a wary glance back at Alf, who's still throwing a panicky stare out toward nothing in particular. With the utterly insane amount of food he's been demanding in recent times—well, not to say he hasn't _always _demanded an insane amount of food, but still, it's been more so lately—he may be the most likely of all the tributes to steal some food for himself.

Or, should I say, _attempt_ to steal. For if he even tries to make a swipe at these supplies, he won't be alive long enough to regret it.

"Hey... Japan?"

I turn toward Alf slowly, resting my hand on the hilt of my sword threateningly.

"Yes?"

Alf has stood up since I glanced at him last, and he's now stepping toward me, hands in pockets. The panicked look still hasn't quite left his eyes, though he's now grinning charismatically.

"You know, I really wouldn't mind another bite to ea—" He halts suddenly when I slash my sword towards him, stopping it centimetres away from his chest. I narrow my eyes pointedly, but no words are needed.

Alf frowns, not seeming to take my open threat as seriously as I'd expected. "Come on... A guy's gotta eat, you know..."

"Yes, and that's exactly why I won't have you scarfing down the rest of our rations."

"But," Alf objects, moving slowly to the side—I keep my katana pointed at him—"Lude's out getting us some food now. Or don't you trust him?"

I hesitate before realising that's exactly what he wants me to do. "It's not about trust. We have no idea if the arena even has any more food to offer—and even if Lude does find us something, it's not likely to hold all three of us for the rest of the Games."

"Is that so?" Alf responds in a thoughtful-sounding tone, looking down at his feet. He scuffs his boot against the ground, making the tall, yellow grass quiver. "Then..." He looks back up.

"—There'll just have to be less of us!"

I hurriedly continue my sword's paused trajectory, but Alf's already pivoting enough to only sustain a shallow wound to his arm. I can only draw my arm back, planning another strike, before he's completely behind me—and before I can turn around, he throws an arm across my shoulders and slams me backward into his chest. I struggle to pull myself out of his grasp, but my effort proves useless.

Alf tosses his other arm across me, only starting to constrict my windpipe—nothing enough to kill me just yet.

I swing my sword up uselessly—I can still move it, but, being unable to lift my shoulder, I won't be able to slash at anything but myself.

The dizziness starts to set in, and my ears fail to interpret Alf's current speech.

What... How did this happen? I...

I underestimated him. Assuming he'd back away if I held my sword up to him long enough... I didn't allow myself enough time to strike should he not.

Alf's meaningless chatter continues barraging my ears, and his arm starts to push harder against my neck. Black spots start to dance around the bleak view of the savannah in front of me.

Is this... it? Am I really going to... die here?

I... didn't expect this. I thought for sure I was going to win... Win, and bring back honour to my home...

But what honour is in this? A pathetic, helpless death, with only one kill of mine credited to my district?

I-I can't die like this. But I don't see a way out—unless Lude comes back and saves me...

But... There's no honour in that, either. To break ties with him yet beg him to rescue me... Let alone to turn on him later in order to win...

No. I will not live in that shame. I am going to... I am going to die here.

Alf clamps down a little harder, and I let out an involuntary choking sound.

This is becoming... more and more uncomfortable. My throat closing in on itself; my shoulders being pushed in enough to cut off circulation; Alf's ribs behind me digging into mine, almost perfectly lined up...

And in a sudden burst of mental clarity, I know exactly what I am going to do.

My vision starts to blur out as I shift my halfway-numb fingers around the hilt of my katana. I bring it up parallel to my chest, then tilt the sword inward. And with the largest painful heave of my shoulder I can manage, I plunge the blade straight through my heart—

—And the heart behind it.

Alf lets go and sounds a strangled cry of pain as I wrench the blood-covered sword back out of us. The pain is enough to stop my breathing altogether—but I'm not done yet. Whipping around, I launch my blade into Alf's throat. The cannon booms, but I continue hacking the katana across his neck until the increasingly ragged cut goes all the way through.

Unable to stay standing, dropping my sword, I tumble over and crash into the grass shoulder-first. I've started breathing again, but only in laboured, bloody rasps, and my vision's not getting any clearer, nor the pain any lighter. If anything, the affliction is growing worse as my heart convulses, ripping itself apart with every beat.

And, as I lay here in the expanding pool of my blood, I can only hope this is the best I could have done. I should have hunted more, I should have not let myself underestimate Alf, I... I should have done many things. But this is what it's come to. Just please... please tell me I've brought honour to my district today...

My vision finally blurs out, I know from more than my tears.

With all of the mistakes I've made... Please tell me this outweighs it... Please tell me I've... died in not shame, but dignity... Please...

Without a single response from the world, my senses go blank.

**Austria Edel, District 8**

I squeeze Veta's hand tightly as we inch our way around the mountain. We can't hear whomever we were fleeing from anymore—but by now, we've gotten ourselves into anything but shelter. So we must keep moving.

The sun's starting to get less harsh now—though that's not entirely a good thing, considering the rocks don't seem to keep heat very well—so I'm assuming the afternoon is drawing to a close.

I draw my hand across another rock blocking our way, and, pushing myself around its side, lead my fian—I mean wife—further forward. And, being in the lead, I'm the one who sees the tributes in our path first.

"Ah! Swi—" I cut off to a stammer as my former ally suddenly nocks an arrow and points it straight at me.

"You're—not—welcome here," he growls, keeping his arm pulling back on the string—although, judging by the way his arm is shaking, he won't be able to pull much longer.

"But-I... S-Switz, we..."

"...were allies until _you _abandoned us," Switz finishes, glaring.

Veta steps out from behind me, and Switz instantly adjusts to aim at her.

"Hey!" I object, stepping back in front. "Whatever vendetta you have against me, she's not part of—!"

"I don't care!" he snaps. "Get away from my alliance right now, the both of you, or I _will _shoot!"

"But..." I trail off. It seems whatever reunion with them I had been expecting is not going to happen. While Switz doesn't seem to be in top condition, I don't doubt for a second that he'll keep his word on shooting me.

"A-All right. I'm leaving." I walk around slowly, arms up, and the tip of his arrow turns to follow me until my alliance has rounded a corner.

"I'm guessing you made some friends while I was away," Veta whispers sarcastically.

"Heh. Yeah."


	36. Time to Sleep

**Lude Ermany, District 2**

It's already evening by the time we finally get back to the savannah crater. I breathlessly announce it's us since the rest of the pack hasn't shown any sign of spotting us yet and I'd rather not get attacked from a misunderstanding. With effort, I throw the gator up and over the ridge first and then climb up myself.

And that's when I first notice absolutely no one else is here.

"Lude?"

More distracted than just responding to my name, I look toward Ciano a little. He's standing at the other side of the ridge still, holding his arms out toward me in a way that looks more like he wants a hug than help over. I tug him over, not paying much attention when he stumbles and flops into the grass.

"Careful," I mumble, stepping a little further into the crater. It doesn't change the fact that we're the only two here. At first I think the tall grass must be obscuring something, but by now the foliage has been pretty well broken down; not enough tall stuff remains to hide a whole person. Nor the two distinct puddles of blood.

Still dumbstruck, I walk over to the first I can see. Just a plain puddle of blood, nothing splashed away from a struggle or anything. The second seems to have had a lot more action around it but still has nothing to clue me in to what happened.

Was there a tribute attack? I could see someone killing Alf easily, or maybe Vivi in her condition, but either of them would have fought back. Maybe two people attacked: one that killed Alf or Vivi in the struggle puddle, and another that Japan or the remaining Career caught before he or she could do anything.

But... that doesn't explain why _no one _is left. Japan could have gone hunting easily enough, but neither of the others could. Did Alf and Vivi both get killed? Did they kill each other? The struggle puddle has enough blood for two people. So the other puddle is just a random tribute?

I rub my forehead. I'll just wait for Japan to come back and tell me what happened. That is, if he's planning to come back. He never struck me as a deserter, but I'd understand if he thought Ciano was too useless to have in the alliance. Of course... if he thought that, why would he have given Ciano any food at all this afternoon?

Okay, let's face it, I have no clue what happened or what's going on now. At any rate, the death toll should clear a few things up. But that's probably still an hour or so away. I'll just wait. I have enough to do, anyway.

Exhaling, I return to the gator to figure out how to break it open. Ciano is sitting in the grass nearby, looking up from twiddling the long, yellow grass in his fingers when I approach.

"What happened to everybody?" he asks innocently.

"Don't know," I grunt, examining the gator for a minute before deciding to try a nearby knife first. It doesn't come close to piercing the thing's hide.

It's almost sundown by the time I've decided the whole "slicing at its hide" thing isn't working at all. With a sigh, I decide to dig out what little remains of our rations and just take another swing at the gator in the morning. We don't have much more but jerky, but it'll hold us for the night. I end up splitting my canteen with Ciano, and we down it all, but that's all right since we have quite a few more canteens.

Just as I'm screwing the lid on the empty canteen, Ciano starts, "Lude?" Setting the canteen down, I turn back toward him.

"Thank you for helping me," he chimes sincerely. I nod an acceptance of this, and he shuffles forward.

"I made you something," he continues, holding his arms forward. In his hands is something the same colour as the grass, so I can't quite make it out until I can hold it in my own palm.

It's a little heart, woven intricately from the grass. I poke it wonderingly, not sure how anyone could make something like that, not only smooth around the edges but three-dimensional.

"That's... amazing," I say, turning it around in my palm. "Thanks."

Ciano smiles at me, and, not quite sure what to do with it, I carefully put the little work of art in my jumper pocket.

With a sharp blast of sound, the anthem starts, making Ciano jump. Almost laughing at his reaction but remembering how much I need to see what's in the sky tonight, I look upward silently. The death toll shows three faces. All three of my teammates. So... all of them are dead? _All _of them? Even Japan? I... I can't imagine what could have happened to kill them all. Either the three got into a big dispute, or they got mobbed by other tributes... Or neither... I'm no closer to figuring this out than I was when I first came in.

Letting out a long exhale, I force my mind to focus on what's to come tonight. I haven't gotten any kills recently, and the Career-supporting audience, however small they've gotten this Games, can't be happy with how this alliance has shifted. I should go on the hunt tonight, but...

I glance over at Ciano. I can't leave him here by himself; he'll probably trip on something and decapitate himself. But I don't want to take him hunting with me...

I stop myself. That's no excuse. I... I've already put him above my duties as a Career too many times. I can't let him hold me back like that. I'll bring him hunting whether he likes it or not, and if he makes too much noise I'm not above gagging him for a while. And if he doesn't like what I do, well, he... he can leave. I-I won't care.

Shifting my legs, I wince a little bit. Honestly, I'm not in the best condition after hauling a huge brute halfway up a mountain. And... And the audience should be entertained enough, with whatever chaos happened to the rest of the pack.

...I'm making excuses. I hate people who make excuses. It's showing a lack of discipline.

Maybe I'm just too tired to think straight. I can't say how much I'd like a good night's sleep, but that doesn't mean it's acceptable for me to do that. And that's dangerous, especially if my teammates were attacked by other tributes. This isn't a good hiding place, and I highly doubt Ciano is the kind to take watch all night.

But we are on top of the mountain... And if the others were taken out, the attacker shouldn't have any reason to think we're here now.

Ugh. I don't even know whether I'm making excuses or just thinking it out anymore. I guess I do need the sleep, anyway.

Still wary but not sure what else to do, I nod off.

**Russia Bragins, District 9**

I made it back to my crater for the night. It's still really, really cold—but that's good. I ended up getting pretty badly sliced up in my fight with Gil, especially in my stomach. And then there's that arrow wound that sent me tumbling down the side of the mountain for a little while. That wasn't fun.

But it's all right now. Since this mini-environment is so cold, it's a lot harder to feel my wounds. Or much of anything, for that matter. I can't say if it's gotten colder since I was here last, but it's definitely really, really, _really_, cold.

Oh, well. At least it's numbing.

I curl up in the grass and watch the faces flit across the sky. A lot of Careers. No Gil. No Switz.

Well, good. I'd rather kill them myself. It'll be a lot of fun to kill Gil, if I actually get to.

And then there's Switz. It might not be as fun to eliminate him. Because I _need _to kill him. Not just do it for fun.

Because his arrow tore a hole through my scarf.

My sister made me this scarf. And, aside from my life in the Games, it's all I have left of her. And Switz went and ripped a hole in it, a big, gaping hole almost wide enough to slice the cloth all the way through.

And I definitely can't let him live with that.

But! That's a job for another day. Now it's time to go to sleep.


	37. Lackadaisy

Author's Note: The POV of Switz Wingly is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Switz Wingly, District 7**

Something pokes gently into my side. I roll over in response. Come on, Mom, it's not a school day…

"Switz…?"

I'm poked again before I suddenly realise where I am. Snapping to wakefulness as quickly as possible, I sit up hurriedly enough to make myself a little bit dizzy.

"Ah, you're awake!" I register my sister's voice, but my eyes aren't awake enough to see her. I blink a few times and register nothing but Liet and the mountainside beside me.

"Wait…" I try to remember what exactly happened before I fell asleep, but… "Liet? What happened last night?"

"Um…" My sister wrings her hands. "We took a break here, and you fell asleep."

"Wha-Well, why didn't you wake me? We can't just stay on the side of the mountain! Anyone could…" My voice is getting too loud for something said to my sister, so I quiet down. "…Anyone could find us here, you know."

"I-I know… You just… You looked so tired, and… I-I didn't want to wake you up."

I sigh. "Liet, that's a dangerous thing to do, okay?" I stretch a little. "Did you get enough sleep?"

"Hm? Oh! Yeah. I tried to stay up for watch, but…" She looks at her shoes in a downcast manner.

"No, that's fine," I reassure quickly. "We didn't get attacked, so… No harm, no foul, right?" She nods uncertainly. "Yeah. Just be sure to wake me up next time, okay?" I ruffle her hair.

Well, there shouldn't be a "next time". I shouldn't have fallen asleep. Shouldn't have stopped in the first place.

"Come on. Let's go find some shelter." I shuffle around so Liet can take her usual piggyback position, but she hesitates. "What's wrong?" I turn around quickly. "Is your leg hurting? Because I think we have some more band—"

"No, no, I'm fine." She clambers on, and I stand up, starting across the mountain.

The first crater we run into is the swamp. Not going there again, that's for sure. I keep walking.

A few tiring minutes later, we come across another crater filled with deciduous trees, and I survey the area quickly before deciding to go in. I clamp my hands onto the crater edge and pull. But it takes me a good minute to finally heave the two of us over.

Sheesh, am I really that weak? I know I didn't have any breakfast, but for cripes' sake, I slept through the whole night and then some. I should be plenty refreshed enough.

But I'm not feeling any better. Not only am I still worn, I've also gotten a pretty nasty headache—from sleeping on rocks all night, no doubt.

No time to complain, though. I have to secure us some shelter ASAP.

Finally having gotten into the forest crater, I sweep my hands across each other and start across the compacted dirt. There's not much to go through for the first metre, but then the trees start to spring up. I weave through them, careful not to bump Liet against anything. About three more metres in, the trees become draped with hanging moss, and I have to continuously pull clumps aside just to see what's in front of me. It's gotten hard enough just trying to peer through the mostly-obstructed shafts of sunlight.

"—not that good."

I freeze.

"What's wrong, Switz?"

I shush my sister and listen again. Sure enough, voices are coming from deeper in the crater. Other tributes are here. And if other tributes are here, this isn't safe.

I turn around and march back out of the forest. The sunlight hits me again, making my headache throb, but I don't stop for a second until I've heaved us back out of the crater.

Liet doesn't comment; she must have heard the voices, too.

I look around the mountainside. The only other crater I can see is some sort of desert, but it'll have to do. There seem to be enough cacti to cast a protective shadow.

So, taking a deep breath, I set off for there.

**Ciano Idalya, District 6**

With a high-pitched yawn, I roll over on the grass and stretch. Is it morning already? The sun's up, so I guess so!

My stomach grumbles, so I bet it's time for breakfast. I find Lude—he's not far away, since I went to sleep right next to him because it's still kinda scary out here—and to my surprise, he's still asleep.

"Lude?" I poke his shoulder, but all he does is let out a droning snore. "Lu-ude? Hey, Lude?" I shake his shoulder a little. "Are you okay?"

With a sudden snort that makes me jump, he pulls his arm away from me and blinks open his eyes.

"Oh!" I clap my hands together cheerfully. "You're awake!"

"Wha...? Yeah..." He squints and sits up, rubbing his eyes. "You woka... woke up before me?" Confused, he looks up at the sky. "Ah!" he yelps, scrambling to his feet. "What—what—what... I-it's, like, ten o'clock!"

"Huh?" I look up, but I still don't know how you're supposed to tell time with the sun. I can just tell it's morning. He must be really good if he can tell it's ten o'clock!

I look back over at Lude, who's roughly shoving a knife into his pocket and picking up his main, spiky weapon.

"Come on; we're going."

I blink. "What? But we just woke up!"

"Well, we should have woken up earlier," he counters, grumbling under his breath. "Ten o'clock! What kind of soldier sleeps in until ten o'clock?"

A little bewildered, I timidly ask if we're going to have breakfast first.

"It'll take too long to pry that stupid alligator open. It's almost lunchtime, anyway. So come on, we're going." He grabs the first canteen he sees and hops the crater wall impatiently, glaring back at me to hurry up. I scramble over the ridge as fast as I can—I don't want to make him angry—and stand next to him for a second, scared he's changed his mind about carrying me piggyback, too.

"Hurry it up, will you?" he grumbles, stooping down a little. Relieved, I climb on.

Lude immediately rockets down the mountainside like me running away from something scary. I have to struggle to hang on until he finally starts slowing down. A little winded, he pauses to take out the canteen. As he unscrews the lid, I think more and more how good water sounds right now...

"Lude?"

He pauses, turning his head to look at me. The serious, almost-crazed look hasn't left his face, and I shrink down a little.

"I'm thirsty..."

He just looks at me for a second, and then heaves a sigh and holds the canteen up. With a thanks, I let go—I drop a little to the ground, but not enough to hurt—and take it. I tilt the canteen against my lips and get a big mouthful.

And then I spit it right back out.

"What is it now?" Lude demands, wiping some sweat off his forehead.

"I-it tastes yucky," I say sadly, handing the canteen back to him.

"Yeah?" He looks over the thing for a second and takes an experimental sip. He holds it in his mouth, but from his face it looks like he can't pick out anything. He spits it back out, just in case, and pours a little of the water into his palm. With a sound of surprise, he rubs it with his fingers.

"There's... some sort of pulp in here," he says out loud. "I... guess we shouldn't drink it." Glancing at me with more of a "was not expecting this" look than a glare, he dumps the stuff from his hand and sets the canteen down on the rocks. "Thanks."

I blink. "You're... welcome?"

Seeing I'm not completely sure why he's thanking me, Lude says, "I think it was poisoned. I never would have noticed—your sense of taste is a lot better than mine, I bet."

"So..." My eyes widen. "I saved your life?"

"Looks like it."

"Yay!" I chime, jumping over to hug him in my cheer. He smiles at me before suddenly looking down.

"Okay, we'd better get going now," he starts, swallowing thirstily. I climb onto his back again, and he resumes climbing.


	38. Loyalties

Author's Note: Although they do not appear here, the circumstances surrounding Austria's and Gil's deaths have not changed. The POV of Russia Bragins is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Thew Canda, District 3**

Sleep interrupted by a cannon, I woke up.

And I really wish I hadn't.

Because my headache is back. Although it's less than when I first came to consciousness after Alf had incurred it... It's still nothing to laugh at, for sure.

I flop over on my side in an attempt to keep my eyes away from the suddenly-blinding sun. Even in the boughs of the swamp crater trees, there don't seem to be enough leaves to temper it.

But that also means there's plenty of space to get a donation parachute through to me.

So where is it?

I stretch my neck to glance at the sky again, but I don't see any cloth billowing down toward me. I let my gaze drop back down to the rest of the bog.

I guess I'm not really in that convenient a place for donations. One little breeze, and the parachute'd probably just fall into the swamp mud.

So do I need to get out of here? I really don't feel like moving…

With a sigh, I start to shift my position in the hammock of branches. It doesn't help my headache, and I'm pretty sore from crouching over a bunch of wood all night, but I eventually have a foot on the next branch down. From there, I shuffle down carefully, finally putting a shoe on the ground with a muddy splat. I put my other foot down, trying to ignore the discomfort of the mud slinking back into my boots, and start to trudge to the outside of the crater.

The going seems awfully slow for such a short distance, but it's probably so because of my headache.

But, headache or not, I eventually make it to the crater's edge, and, with a grunt, just manage to pull myself over onto the rocks. I flop down immediately, repeatedly cursing Alf for the headache.

All right, sponsors, I'm available. In pain, but available. So, food, pain meds, whatever'll help, I'm ready.

I look up to try and locate a parachute.

And I find myself looking straight at Lude.

**Lude Ermany, District 2**

"Thew!" Ciano exclaims. Far from matching his enthusiasm, I just stare down at the other tribute.

Thew... is dead... I saw him fall, and I heard his cannon...

But here he is, meeting my gaze after stifling a flash of alarm in his eyes. Still with a feeling of unreality, I reach over and grab his shirt. It's solid. Not a hallucination.

Looking unnerved, Thew shuffles back a little, but his shirt doesn't escape my grasp.

"Thew!" Ciano chimes again, scrambling over to the apparent other tribute. "I'm so glad you're okay! I mean, I know I didn't see—" He cuts off, a bit confused, when Thew gives him a scared look and starts fervently shaking his head "no".

"...Didn't see what?" I ask slowly, turning to face Ciano but not relinquishing my grip.

"U-Um, I..." Distraught, my ally looks back and forth between Thew and me. "I-I didn't..." Tongue-tied, he looks at the both of us one last time before bursting into tears.

It takes me a minute to figure out why he's so distressed. He and Thew were allies; they were having a friendly chat when Alf and I showed up. So Ciano can't make himself betray him. So what would be betraying Thew?

Showing he's alive after all. Which means Ciano didn't see... Didn't see his face in the sky.

I guess I didn't, either. Alf's ghost terror show distracted us all from the death toll that day. I just assumed he was up there because I heard a cannon.

So he's not dead after all. No insanity on my part, no ghosts. Just a fluke that kept him alive.

And if he's alive, that means I need to kill him.

"Ciano, back up."

Still wailing, my ally looks at me with terror, not completely willing to move.

"Ciano, move!" I growl, raising my morningstar for warning. Trembling, he scoots back.

Now aware I know he's alive, Thew tries to back up and pull his shirt out of my hand, but he's too weak. Holding steady, I circle my weapon a few times high above before cracking it down hard on his skull. Dead before he can cry out in pain, Thew hits the ground, and a cannon fires.

Although there's plenty of blood, skull, and brains splattered on the ground to prove he's gone, I stick around for the hovercraft this time. In only a few seconds, the metal claw plucks him up and takes him away.

I take a moment to wipe some of the flesh off my weapon before I turn to check on Ciano.

He's just sitting in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees, still blubbering.

"Y-you killed him," he whimpers, sounding like someone's strangling him.

"Yes, I did. I'm a Career. That's what I do."

Ciano doesn't have anything else to say.

"Come on," I continue, gripping my weapon so it won't swing when I move. "We're going back to the top. To get some water and things."

Ciano just looks back at me, frightened. And just when I think I've doomed this friendship, he wobbles back to his feet and climbs on my back.

"Right. Let's go."

**Russia Bragins, District 9**

I can't believe I still haven't found anyone! I've been exploring all morning, but I haven't seen a single tribute. I mean, I know the arena's really big, but... The Gamemakers would want us to find each other, right? So why can't we?

I don't know. But things aren't that bad. I'm still kinda beat up from my fight with Gil, so I don't mind not running into anyone. It's no fun by myself, but I should be grateful that I get a little time to heal up.

I haven't gotten anything from my sponsors since... Well, since the knife, I think. Maybe things have just gotten too expensive. That's all right, though. I've figured out ways to get food and water the last couple of days.

Speaking of which, I'm starting to get a little hungry.

Leaning forward, away from the mountainside, I shift my weight back to my feet and look around. I'm a few metres away from the crater with the Cornucopia and all of the hedges. I've already checked them for food, but I didn't recognise any of the berries, so I didn't take any chances with them. I haven't seen any animals running around there, either.

So... What else is around? There's my crater, but that place definitely has no food. I remember seeing another crater with a bunch of grass, but I don't see how anything edible could be hiding there.

I guess I'll climb up, then. I think there was a forest somewhere around here, too...

Putting my hands over the stones and trying not to flinch when they scrape, I start to clamber upward.

In a few minutes, I've managed to find the forest—not hard, since it's the only crater really full of trees—and I get a grip on the ridge when I hear something. Letting go, I turn and look about curiously. I can't see anything despite the bright noontime sun, but... Ah! There!

I trot over the stones toward the animal, which continues to stare at me lazily.

"Hello!"

It blinks its dark eyes at me, but doesn't move its brown head at all. I take another step closer, but it still doesn't seem to mind.

"Would you make a good lunch?"

No flash of alarm comes from its face, though it leans in a little bit.

I wonder if it _would _make a good lunch. I've never had pony before, but I am pretty hungry...

Oh, well! First time for everything, right?

I slash out with my knife and take it down easily.

Well, there's that! Let's go find something to cook it with!

Nudging the carcass a little bit so it won't fall off the mountainside, I run back over to the forest crater, pick up an assortment of fallen branches, and scurry back out toward my lunch.

Now I have to carve it up. I look over the mound of hair curiously, poking it with the handle of my knife. I'm not from 10—I don't know where all I'm supposed to get the meat from.

Oh, well. I'll figure it out after a while.

I sit down and start to dig my knife under its skin.


	39. Invasion

Author's Note: Although they do not appear here, the circumstances regarding Switz and Liet's move from the desert crater to the grass crater have not changed.

* * *

**Ciano Idalya, District 6**

We get back to the crater a little past lunchtime. Lude sets me down near the edge, finds a canteen, looks at it for a second, and hands it to me. I shakily take a little drink of it before mumbling that it tastes fine. With a thanks, he takes it back and hands me another one. I tell him it tastes okay, too, and he says to go ahead and drink it, then. So I do. He sits next to me while we drink, but we don't say anything. He goes back to the giant crocodile mutt and tries to figure out how to poke it open.

I just sit here. I don't feel like doing anything else. It's not late enough for a nap, and we don't have anything to eat yet. And I don't feel like making anything out of the grass, either. So I just sit here and watch Lude.

He still can't seem to find the right thing to get through the mutt's hide. I wonder if I'll ever get to eat it. I've never had crocodile meat before. It probably tastes like chicken.

Lude starts trying to saw through with a length of wire, and it actually looks like it's working. Then he suddenly stops, looking to his side. I have to move up a little to see what it is: a bug with pretty colours on its back. Lude squishes it, and I sit back down. Lude goes back to sawing through the crocodile before pausing again. He leans over to stomp on the ground. I guess it was another bug.

This time he doesn't go right back to the crocodile. He looks around a little. When he gets to looking right behind him, he freezes. I look in the same direction, my left, and gape. Half of the crater is covered with the little bugs! It looks so pretty.

Lude doesn't look like he likes them that much. He stands up and looks at them suspiciously. In reply, one of them boings up onto his arm. He jumps back, waving his arm back and forth, and I'm so scared he's hurt I get up and scurry over. He grabs at the bug, and after a minute of struggling, pries it off. Panting, he looks at his arm where the bug landed, which looks all black and crispy and not fun.

Scared, I just watch him while he slowly turns back toward all of the other bugs. Like he just now notices they're all there, his eyes widen in alarm.

"Ciano."

I cringe.

"We're getting out of here," he continues, sounding in pain.

I nod, timidly navigating toward his back.

"Right... now!" I barely get my arms around his neck before he starts sprinting.

**Lude Ermany, District 2**

No sooner have I started running than the crickets have launched a mass attack. New ones spring onto my arms and calves faster than I can pick them off, and judging from the half-wailing, half-screaming Ciano has resorted to, he can't be faring any better.

I'm not sure if I'll be able to outrun these stupid things. They're keeping after us like German shepherd dogs after a criminal's trail. I can't attack any one of them without giving the rest a chance to swarm, and I don't think Ciano's going to be doing any cricket-smashing, either, especially since his arms are occupied keeping him attached to me.

I just have to keep running. Keep out of the brunt of things for a while, and hope I can somehow divert the suckers elsewhere. I don't know where. And it's hard to concentrate when my skin is being burnt up and my only friend is screaming his heart out right next to my ear.

He's being attacked, too, no doubt about that. But... I can pick a lot of them off before an individual can do too much damage. And Ciano doesn't have his arms free... Not to mention he's closer to the swarm than I am...

Breathing rate sparking in alarm and stress, I make myself run harder, although I can't quite say what the point of it is. They'll catch up eventually, and I can't get where I'm going faster when I don't know where I'm going.

"Lude!" Ciano cries, voice a little hoarse from the screaming. "Help me!"

"I'm trying!" I roar back, looking around for anything that might help and coming up short.

Think, _think_, Lude! What can you do to these things? Can the environment help? The side of the mountain obviously isn't going to stall them, and neither is the savannah crater we had been in.

I try to think of the other craters I've seen from the summit. There's the swamp. Promising, but too likely to have another gator mutt waiting for me. And the both of us being without weapons, I do _not _want to be in that position.

There's the forest. But that wouldn't trip them up. More likely, they'd bump up against a few trees and light the whole crater up. Not going to get into that, either.

So, that leaves... What else was there? I try to focus, but it's hard to when I'm simultaneously sprinting for my life, trying to pry a new cricket off me before it burns through every layer of my skin, and being barraged by Ciano's cries of pain.

The lake! That's what it was!

And what better way to stop fire than to wet it?

I have to keep running for a while before I've figured out where exactly we are in this mess. Then I take off for the lake crater.

By the time we're finally at the crater's edge, I'm panting harder than Ciano is screaming—his voice has vastly toned down, from weariness I suspect—and I can barely manage to haul the both of us over the crater wall. My boots slide jerkily over the slick shore pebbles, but I regain my balance enough to catapult forward, plunging into the water. The frigid surface slaps me hard, but once I'm under, the chill proves roborant. My burns slowly numb, and I'm distracted by the luxury for a second before I suddenly remember I'm not alone.

Poking my head back out of the water and putting my hands over the arms around my shoulders, I gingerly pull his grip off me and turn to make sure his head is out of the water. It is, just barely, his neck almost rubbery in letting it droop to the side. Aware I'm dangerously close to kicking his legs, I push him away from me a little.

And a watered-down streak of blood trails from behind him.

Not at all sure how I could be burnt badly without a drop of blood on my part yet Ciano burnt and bleeding, I try to locate the source of the blood, dread rising in my throat all the while.

Just as I determine it's from his back, which I've yet to see, a cannon fires.

Breaths becoming quicker from something I'd rather not identify as panic, I turn him around and instantly feel sick.

His shirt long since burnt away, his exposed back is charred past the point anyone could recognise it as human skin. And then... Three. Three cricket-sized holes in his skin. Two at his lower back, and one just behind his heart. And I... I can actually... _see _his heart... O-or... what's left of it...

With a choking sound, I let go of his body to float on its own. A hovercraft retrieves him before I can even start to see the extensive burns on the backs of his legs.

Feeling cold from more than the lake's temperature, I slowly tread water. Somewhere inside, I realise the crickets are still watching me, and, barely aware I'm moving, I end up splashing water onto them until they've all sizzled and died. More or less safe, I pull myself onto the narrow shore and sit.

I'm only just a soldier enough to be ashamed that I cry.


	40. Meat

**Russia Bragins, District 9**

It's bedtime already, and I still haven't run into anyone. It's almost really depressing. But just almost. I'm still in the Hunger Games, and I'll still get to kill anyone I come across. If I ever come across anyone.

But of course I will! Why am I thinking so negatively? I get plenty of time to rest after my battle with Gil, I have plenty of meat from that pony, and I have plenty of cover with all of this frosty grass! I'm really lucky!

Comforted again, I roll myself up in the grass and doze off.

**Switz Wingly, District 7**

Liet has fallen asleep by the time the faces light up the sky. She's still leaning back against the crater edge, her arms folded loosely and resting on her lap. I'm in a seated position, too, though I suspect I've already gotten all the sleep I'm going to get today.

I watch the Capitol seal when it appears, and the faces that follow. The first is some tribute I don't really remember. At least we have another person out of the way.

After that is that weird kid from 6. Wasn't expecting him to last this long when everyone else is dropping like flies.

The next is Austria's.

…

So he died after all. Well… fine. We weren't friends. We were barely allies. And _he's_ the one who abandoned _us_. So it's his own fault.

And, for my sister to get out of this alive, well, he would have had to die, anyway. So it all works out in the end.

The next face is Gil's. Hm. I wonder if he just bled out. He was kind of missing an arm the last time I saw him, after all.

But however he died, he's gone now. And in a matter of seconds, his face is gone from the sky as well, replaced by the Capitol seal.

So… Two more gone. That leaves… Well, me and Liet. And then Russia, who might have a vendetta against me for shooting an arrow at him. One of the Careers is still alive. And I don't think I've seen Austria's fiancée in the death toll, either.

So, that means five of us. Only three opponents to take down, and after that… Me. And then my sister goes home.

…I'm still not sure how this is going to work out. I mean, no matter how lucky I've been so far, eventually, I'm going to have to kill some people.

But… I can sort that out later. There's no need to now.

The last flourish of the anthem dies and leaves me in an eerie silence. It's easy to see how my sister could have fallen asleep in this—it's utterly peaceful.

But that also gives me the inchoate feeling that something bad's about to happen.

A few minutes of nothing—excluding a peculiar throbbing in my hands and arm—doesn't relieve my premonition.

And what happens afterward confirms it.

Something screeches loudly, and it takes me a few frantic moments to find the thing in the lucifugous environment. Though the darkness still keeps me from seeing details, I can now make out a very large flying thing topping the tree a few metres away. It seems to be shooting closer to us, so, with an exclamation to wake up my sister, I put my hands on the grass to push myself up—

—And instantly recoil with a shout of pain.

"S…Switz?" My sister sounds simultaneously alarmed and sleepy as she stirs.

I glance at my hands and just make out the crisscrossing, inflamed scratches. Where did these come from? Unless…

"Don't move!"

Liet gives a start but halts her motion.

"What's going on?"

"Just-just don't touch the grass, okay?"

I exhale through gritted teeth as the pain in my hands not only fails to go away, but also starts to spread to my arm. Suddenly reminded of why I was trying to get up in the first place, I wobble up without using my hands and finally manage to stand.

Liet looks at me concerned, but still obeys my command not to move.

I look over toward the tree, but I can't make out the bird any longer.

"All right," I start, holding out my uncut arm to my sister, "get up." She latches onto my arm and starts to pull herself up.

"Do you think you can climb over the ridge yourself?" I continue.

"Um, yes, I think so. But why—" She's interrupted by another screech, and I suddenly hear the thing's wings flapping.

"Climb over, hurry!"

She whips around and places her hands on the ridge, pulling herself up about halfway before I nudge her over with my shoulder. I navigate around the circumference of the ridge for a while, tapping my feet to try and find a foothold. I get something within a few metres, so, putting my foot on the shortest rock I could find, I hoist myself upward unstably, clomp my foot down on the highest part of the ridge here, and jump over, barely landing on my feet. Wings beat right behind me, so I find my sister and run toward her before it can get to me.

"Jump on!"

She seems unwilling to ride piggyback, but does what I say anyway, and I catch a glimpse of the very large, sharp-taloned bird about half a metre away before I take off running again.

Within a few seconds, I'm already tired. Why am I running, anyway? I still have that arrow, don't I? Gah, my brain's about as lacking as my physical condition now.

But… I could hardly nock the thing, with my hands the way they are now.

"Liet!"

"Yes?" she calls.

"Get the… the bow and arrow out of my waistband, and get it… ready to shoot!"

"O-Okay!"

I can't help but flinch as she lets go of my neck, shifting her weight wholly onto my lower arms and back. Taking a minute to feel around, she finally gets her hands on the weapon. In a moment, she throws one arm back around my neck, and then gets the bow ready to fire.

"Now what?"

"I'm going to… to help you fire it at him, okay? Let go on three!" I nervously come to a stop and turn around. Putting my uninjured arm over hers, I help her pull the string back.

"One…" The bird gets closer.

"Two…" He's almost upon us.

"Three!" We both pull our arms away, and the arrow goes flying. It pierces the bird, which ceases flying and plummets to the ground.

I start toward it panting. It's a little easier to see now, and I'm very sure it's dead.

"…All right. Good jo—" I'm cut off by a growl.

What is it _now_?

Trying to stop gasping for air, I peer around to find whatever had made that noise. It's only a matter of seconds before I locate it—or rather, them. Three abnormally large wolves stalk toward us.

I've had a little experience with wolves back in District 7—you leave them alone, they leave you alone. But, seeing as we're in the middle of the Hunger Games, I have a feeling it won't be that easy.

I cautiously take a step back, motioning for my sister to get back into a riding position very slowly. The wolves continue to approach at the same pace. I back up a few more hesitant steps, but fail to dissuade them. If I want to get away from these guys, I'm going to have to do something different.

But what? I don't have any weapons left. It's not like I could take on a single one of them hand-to-hand. All I can do is run, and I'm pretty sure I won't be able to for long. And if I don't do anything, they're sure to attack eventually.

Well, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?

I turn around and run.

I can't tell if they pick up the pace behind me. All I know is that I have to run for shelter and get there before my legs give out, or we're both dead.

The next crater isn't close. And as I continue running, I can hear the mutts steadily gaining. I suspect it's because I'm slowing down.

I don't think I can go much longer… But… I have to get Liet out of this…

As I keep running, no sanctuary in sight, I start to believe less and less we will get out.

I can practically feel the wolves' breath at my heels as I stumble through the rocks. I'm still going as fast as I can, but "as fast as I can" is getting closer and closer to "too slow".

I... I really don't think I'm going to make it out of here...

Having to strain my lungs to the utmost, I ask Liet if she can run. Trembling, she says yes.

I can barely lift her over my head, but she jumps down soon and starts running ahead of me. A weight lifted, I'm able to go a little faster. We keep pace for a little while until I start unwillingly dropping back. Alarmed, Liet does the same, but I force myself to tell her to keep going.

"I'll catch up," I get out before the running demands all of my breath again.

Liet, not completely falling for it but convinced enough, picks up the pace. She continues to pull ahead, and I do my best to keep going.

And then something takes a bite out of my arm.

I pull my limb back away from it, cursing inwardly for finding the air to scream in pain.

Liet hears and falters, looking back.

"I'll catch up!" I get out, barely coherent. "Just—keep—running!"

Shaking hard, she turns her head back around and obeys.

Not aware of anything that could be keeping me moving, I force my legs onward. But jaws seize my foot, and I barely pull everything but my shoe out before another wolf clamps down on my side.

Unable to support me any longer, my knees collapse on me, making me slam into the ground. Teeth rip into my shoulder, tearing out a sizeable chunk of flesh before one of the wolves starts gnawing my foot off.

Nearly blind from the sheer pain, I put my other hand forward, to try and pull myself somewhere, but by the time I've gotten it to move, the wolf at my shoulder has started to tear my injured arm away piece by piece, and I'm too agonised to move myself anywhere.

All I can do is stare at the creatures, muzzles slick with the blood coating the rocks, eating away at my body.

I'm short two limbs before the blood loss thankfully, mercifully shuts off my senses.


	41. Go On

Author's Note: It might be a little confusing here, but remember I put flashbacks in italics, in their own sections bordered by the little line under this A/N.

* * *

**Liet Wingly, District 7**

I don't want to stop here, but I don't have a choice. I'm too tired, and this is the only shelter I'm going to get to.

Swallowing fear, I put my hands on the crater ridge and heave. I end up slumping back down the first try, but the second time, I finally balance on the edge for a moment before flipping myself over.

I try not to cringe when my feet hit the ground hard. Trying to push down the memory of forging through the forest a few metres with my brother, I tiptoe forward. I get to the first tree soon, and I pull myself up thankfully. The tree is tall and hard to climb, but it can support me, and I don't think the wolves will be able to get me here.

I prop myself up in the branches and inhale shakily.

He said he would catch up... He said he would catch up...

Forcing away the conflicting feeling, the one I really know is true, I repeat this to myself. He said he would catch up. He will catch up.

Another wave of bile rises in my throat when I think of the last time I saw him. Blood covering and gushing from his arm, a wolf with its lips around his foot...

But it's okay! He's fine! He said he'd catch up. I know there was a cannon, but it could have been anyone! Anyone but him. Because he said he'd catch up.

And he will. He will...

**Lude Ermany, District 2**

By the time morning comes, I have no idea why I'm still just sitting here. I haven't eaten, I haven't slept, and for the most part, I haven't moved since I got back to the savannah. And I can't for the life of me figure out what my reasoning is. If I'm not going to have a meal, I should at least be looking for other tributes. But I'm not. I don't know why. I'm just not.

So, is this... a lack of discipline? Is something... physically wrong with me? The burns don't make things pleasant, but I really didn't get off that bad. And I think those crickets were horrible enough without having to inject venom or something as well. Or maybe I'm wrong. I don't know.

Well, if it's a lack of discipline, I of all people should be able to resolve it. If something's physically wrong, I can at least try before someone else sneaks up on me.

I shuffle my feet through the grass for a minute before finally getting up. One hand occupied by my morningstar, I grab the crater ridge with the other and pull myself up.

There. My weight's back on my feet. Nothing wrong.

I... I should go hunt now. I still don't feel like eating, especially when I haven't completely cracked the stupid gator open yet. With that logic, I'm not really in the mood for anything. But certain things I must do. Hunting is one of them. And I can't just keep resting, or whatever I'm doing. I have to move.

And, maybe, if lounging around keeps me feeling hollow, it'll be good to occupy myself.

With a grunt, I get myself over the ridge and start wearily clambering downward. I'm not sure where I'm going, but that's fine. I don't know where the tributes are, anyway. It doesn't matter where I go as long as someone else is there.

In a while, I end up at the forest crater. Tributes are more likely to be in here than on the side of the mountain somewhere, so I go in.

Almost immediately, I hear branches rustle.

Silently, I look around overhead. That could have just been an animal, but...

I stay still for a while, but no more rustling occurs. Releasing my breath, I go back to walking, still checking every tree with careful scrutiny. I walk for a minute more before I finally think I spot something. Keeping quiet, I draw closer to the suspicious tree, and, sure enough, my eye catches the colours of our uniforms up amidst the branches. The said uniform looks occupied, so I reach for the nearest branch. It doesn't support my weight, instead coming down with a loud snap.

A gasp comes from the tree, and, simultaneously relieved I know someone is there and angered that I gave my position away, I scramble to find a thicker branch. But nothing is sturdy enough; all I manage to do is break away a bunch of limbs.

I notice the tribute hasn't gotten out. Is he caged in by the branches? Injured? Maybe... afflicted by whatever's hit me?

Well, I don't know, and I won't find out until I've got him.

After a moment of internal debate, I decide crashing through the trunk with my weapon is feasible and get at it. A terrified, high-pitched wail comes from the top of the tree once it just begins to tilt.

And just before I've got the tree down, the tribute jumps.

Whipping around, I see the girl from 7 struggling to get back on her feet after hitting the ground from the distance she's fallen. She took care to jump as far away from me as possible; by the time she gains her footing, I haven't quite closed the distance, and she takes off running.

But she's no super-kid. Even being without food for the last one or two days, I can easily catch up and trap her, with her back to the crater wall.

Crying, she looks up at me as I start circling my morningstar.

"Please don't hurt me!"

* * *

_"Please don't hurt me!"_

* * *

My breath catches in my throat, and I stop swinging.

Ci-Ciano...? Wha... W-Wait... What...?

I stare at the person before me. The crying, the rock behind, the words... Ciano... I didn't kill him before, and there's no way I'm killing him now!

But-but-but no! This-this isn't Ciano! What...

I suddenly realise I'm breathing absurdly heavily and make myself stop it. The girl in front of me doesn't notice but only quivers like the cornered, defenceless little thing she is.

No, she's not Ciano! She just... just acted like him for a second...

But if she acts like him...! What makes them so different? Why would I kill her when I could never kill him? She could be just as much of a friend, and... a-and...

I-I can't kill this girl. I can't!

But-but—I have to! She's another tribute! I kill the other tributes! What... What... What am I thinking, what am I doing, _what is happening to me_?

I-I can't let this take over—! _I have to do this_!

With a shout, I bring my morningstar down on her head, and she falls to the ground facefirst.

She wails softly.

In full-blown panic that she's still alive and that I might even want her that way, I slam my weapon onto her again and again. Somehow, I don't hear a cannon, and I only stop when she's so torn up there's no way she could still be alive.

I step back, gasping for breath, and a hovercraft arrives to pick her corpse up. A cannon must have blown sometime... I was just too hysteric to hear it.

A strange, heavy feeling accumulates at the pit of my stomach, and I realise I'm shaking hard.

What just happened? I, Lude, the Career with the most emotions trained out of him, could not bring myself to kill her in good conscience. But what about the rest of the tributes? Can I take them? Am I even me anymore?

I-I don't know what's happening to me.

But I know that, for the first time since I have stepped into this arena, I am scared out of my mind.


	42. The Pain

**Lude Ermany, District 2**

Bark crunches and chips away as I continue punching at the tree in front of me.

I can barely begin to describe the cocktail of emotions making me need to blow off steam like this. There's anger for my weakness. Some sort of... emptiness, or... or maybe sadness from Ciano. Still haven't sorted that out.

But the most pungent is still my fear.

I don't like fear. I've always been so immune to it I've looked down on those who experience it. But I'm just as afraid as any of them now. Afraid of what's happening to me, afraid of what's going to happen next when so many mental barriers have already fallen, and afraid of what this means for me when the other tributes come running in.

What if I don't want to kill them, either? I can't solve the problem when I don't know what made me not want to kill her. Am I suddenly assigning a value to all human life? Am I... Am I not wanting to take away someone else's friend like mine was taken from me? Or have I just been so shaken by his horrible death I can't make myself do my job any more?

Pulling away from the tree panting, I pull a few splinters out of my knuckles. But since I've started moving, I've found the second I rest, these distressed emotions swell and threaten to overcome me altogether. I start pacing in a tight oval.

Suddenly, I shove my hand in my pocket, half afraid I've lost the trinket somewhere and half afraid I haven't. I haven't. I pull out the little heart and let it rest in my palm. Despite having taken a dip in the lake, it's still in the same condition as when I first received it.

I exhale sadly. Ciano... Why did you have to give me anything? Why did you have to give me _this_? Why did you have to come along in the first place? Why did you have to destroy me... or why did you have to make me better?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I slip the grass weaving back in my pocket and keep pacing.

**Russia Bragins, District 9**

My future brunch is already a metre ahead of me before I even land in the forest. And it didn't take any time at all to realise I was after it.

So I'm still in pursuit of the furry, brown thing. I'm not completely sure what exactly it is. It's about the size of a housecat, but its tail is too fluffy for it to be that.

Oh, well. Whatever it is now, it'll be food later!

I continue after it as it speeds forward, delving its way further into the crater. I'm still not catching up, but I'm not losing ground, either. The animal jumps over a protruding bush, but I can't see it running out from the other side.

Slowing down as I approach the shrub, I pace a circle around it. The fuzzy thing is nowhere in sight. I glance back over behind the trail we've left. Still no movement.

It just disappeared? Well, why would it do that?

I look around the leaves and things until I finally see something. But it's not my brunch—it's even better!

Another tribute!

**Lude Ermany, District 2**

Only a few moments after the 9 attacks me, I have him unarmed and his arms secured behind his back. Even if my mind has lost everything it gained from training, my body still has an idea of what it's supposed to do.

Although he by no means stops struggling, I'm able to keep him immobilised with just one hand. My other hand grips my morningstar.

The 9 squirms harder, trying to twist out of his jacket although it's still zipped up. As he realises he's not making any progress, his breathing rate goes up a little.

"L-let me go!" He struggles, still getting nowhere, and a note of panic lights his voice. "Let me go!"

Once more failing to throw me off with the strength of his shoulders, he tries instead to run off. I redirect him straight into the nearest tree. Unable to get away, he starts kicking at my shins, but it's nowhere near painful enough to make me let go.

"Let me go!" he demands again, voice edging on a wail. "Let me go, let me go, let me go!" He keeps trying to get me away from him somehow, but it's obvious he's not going to escape.

All right. Here he is. I'm supposed t—going to kill him. Simple enough. Just swing. All there is to it.

But my arm doesn't move.

I repeat myself. I'm going to kill him. Swing.

Nothing.

So... that's it? I'm just... just going to stand here and—

Something suddenly pierces my back, and in some sort of reflex, I spin around, arm extended; I see the head of my weapon crash into someone's face before I register what I'm doing. Grinding my teeth from the flares of pain in my back, I stretch my arms back to try and locate whatever hit me.

Only then do I realise I've let go of the 9.

By then, it's too late. The blade is shoved further between my ribs before being wrenched back out.

It's a matter of moments before the heart I now know I must have rips itself apart and leaves me to sink into darkness.

**Veta Edel, District 8**

It was easy to decide to kill Lude after I saw what he did to that poor girl. It was easy to know I needed to wait for the right opportunity since he's a Career. It was easy to pick Russia's knife back up off the ground and sneak up behind the two to stab.

It's not so easy getting myself back off the ground after having my jawbone halfway ripped off. The pain is literally blinding, and I can barely hear Lude's cannon when it blasts. But I have to get up. My life is at stake here.

Forcing my limbs to push with a gargantuan grunt, I finally manage to heave myself up. The new series of pains from my jaw bobbing from the motion almost knocks me down again, but I grit my teeth—metaphorically speaking—and keep my fingers clenched around the frying pan.

Still blurry through my eyes, Russia cheerfully scoops his knife back out of Lude's dead body and leaves the warped smiley face of wounds he created to grin up at the sky until the claw comes down.

Russia hasn't quite noticed that I'm here, but I can't attack first. Despite being able to stand and fight off unconsciousness, I can't make myself take a step forward.

He comes to me instead. Looking at my outstanding injury wonderingly, he doesn't attack at first. Shaking, I hurry to swing at his head while I still have the chance. Having been distracted, Russia doesn't get the chance to dodge, and he goes down with a clang. I crumple to my knees—with a little difficulty, as my legs would rather just let me down altogether—and pound him while he's down. He cries out in pain but manages to somersault backward and out of my range. Visibly dizzied by the assault, he doesn't get to his feet immediately, but he doesn't need to be in a rush, anyway. _I_ sure know I'm not coming after him any time soon.

Shaking off some of the pain, Russia re-readies his knife and wanders over again. Still slightly hypnotised by my dangling jaw, he chooses to poke at it first.

My vision whiting out in a flash, I stagger back and fall on my rear, narrowly keeping myself from losing consciousness.

"Stop it," I try to blather in some wild attempt to buy time, although I can't form any of the consonants.

Not stalled, a blurry and almost-shining version of Russia comes for me again, and, apparently not getting the response he wanted, gives up on assaulting my face. I try to bring my frying pan around again, but he gets out of the way easily before shoving the tip of his knife straight into my throat.

I get a moment to start to choke before he pops it back out, and I drown in my blood just like my husband.

* * *

_And that is what would have happened if Lude spared Ciano._


	43. If NOFOJ Wasn't NOFOJ

Author's Note: This ending is called crack. Or nonsense. Or a story request. Whatever you'd prefer. It's only one chapter, but that's all it needs to be.

_Alternate Ending V: What if NOFOJ wasn't NOFOJ?_

Nothing is _actually _the same until now since everyone in _Brutal_ really escaped to a happy, death-free island somewhere in the Pacific, but this ending starts at chapter 13 of _Horrible_.

The POV of Laine Berna has been removed, but her circumstances have not changed.

* * *

**Spain Carriedo, District 3**

The Launch Room's platform slowly ascends, leaving me to take a few deep breaths in the darkness before I'm thrust into the arena.

The brightness of the light is such a change that at first I can't see my surroundings at all. I can only smell something faintly sweet and feel the sunshine through the chilly breeze.

My temporary blindness finally starts to fade, but when I take my first look at the environment, only one thought goes through my head.

_Why is the Cornucopia filled with balloon animals?_

Are they... some sort of... weapons in disguise or something? Just... _what_?

"Attention, everyone!"

More confused by the boom of not the announcer but someone with a megaphone, I look around until I find the culprit.

"You are probably wondering," Amer continues, "why there are no weapons in the Cornucopia. Unless you're standing on the other side and can't see." He pauses for a second, turns toward those facing the tail, and informs them there are no weapons in the Cornucopia.

Clearing his throat, Amer, who's apparently bulky enough to smuggle in a small megaphone under his shirt without anyone noticing, goes on. "This is because..." He puts in a pause with a dramatic look upon his face. "..._there will be no fighting today_!"

He doesn't seem to expect the following lack of vocal response from the other tributes.

"Uh... You heard me? No fighting? Like, ever?"

"They heard you," the neighbouring Igris deadpanns, cringing when the megaphone screeches.

"They're not acting like it..."

"We heard you," the nearby Ania confirms, irritated but convinced something very unusual was going on. "So... What _are _we supposed to do?"

"We are going to escape together!" shouts Amer. Another ear-splitting round of feedback from the megaphone follows, and an irate Igris shouts for Amer to turn the bloody thing off for a minute.

"Escape?" I find myself echoing. We could... escape from here? I never would have believed it before... But the Cornucopia was tampered with. That must take a lot of breaking in, nothing that couldn't handle the escorting of a group of tributes as well.

So we're... we're really...

_We're really going to get out of here...!_

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

After Amer's announcement, a few murmurs arise around the circle before a very clear but timid "How?" comes from somewhere to my right. Amer looks over at me, and, with a nod, I tell him to throw the megaphone over to me. I click the thing on, and it immediately starts squealing. Glaring at Amer when he laughs at me for not being able to control it any better than him, I formulate my part of the spiel and put my mouth to the megaphone.

"We will escape through the use of magic!" I inform them.

The reaction is mixed. A few give me bewildered stares, some of the Careers laugh, and only Amer seems to completely believe me.

"This may sound far-fetched to some of you," I continue, "but I assure you it is a perfectly viable and valid method! Not only is it how we substituted harmless inflated rubber for all of the Cornucopia's contents, but it is also how we..." Although the starting gong has not been struck, I take a large and triumphant step off my platform. "...disabled the bombs beneath our platforms." A few awestruck tributes stare, and a few immediately try a quick step off their platforms and are amazed at their not being blown to bits. I allow a minute for the more sceptic to try stepping off, and soon everyone but the constantly-trembling boy has attempted it. Luckily, I don't have to go over myself; the boy from 7, although still bewildered by the ordeal, approaches him and guides him off.

"Now that you _know_ you are free from the Capitol here..." I pause a second when the megaphone screeches again. "I ask you to join me in reciting the ancient words that will be our getaway! We must all cooperate, or the spell will not be strong enough for twenty-four people!"

No one is ready to object, but China is the first to ask what these words are.

Clicking the megaphone back on, I reply, "I have used my ridiculously large amount of money to hire a rogue hovercraft to position itself above us! The ancient words of ritual are painted on its underside!"

The tributes look to the sky, and, sure enough, the hovercraft is in place. While the others look over the words I've long since memorised, I suddenly remember one last note about the spell I haven't mentioned.

"While we are reading the words," I start slowly, "we must all form a ring, holding hands."

And _now _the tributes don't seem quite as fond of the plan. China refuses to hold hands with any boys in case they "might get ideas", no one near him wants to hold hands with the unclean Wiremu, Dardana under no means is going to show anything that could be interpreted as affection to the D10 tributes, and while Rome and Ania are holding hands, it looks like Ania is about to kill him for it.

It takes a lot of squabbling and a lot of tributes running across to the other side, but soon enough, China is between Perdita and Laine, Wiremu is between Vahn and Vash, Amer and Meghna are holding hands so they can be as far away from Dardana—who's still displeased but too confused and unarmed to do anything about it—and Rome has been pried away from Ania in favour of Taberah and Greis.

"Is everyone ready?" I call. After a suitably large chorus of yeses, I give a short countdown, and we read the words together:

"Jojo was a man who thought he was a loner,

But he knew it couldn't last

Jojo left his home in Tucson, Arizona

For some California grass

Get back, get back, get back to where you once belonged

Get back, get back, get back to where you once belonged!"

The words hang in the air for a moment, and for a second I think someone must not have said it along with us. Soon, though, the wind whips up around us, and a few tributes gasp in awe as the Cornucopia and meadow fade away before them.

We're only in a white limbo for a moment before the environment transitions into a new-to-all-of-us surrounding of trees and beaches.

Really, the ancient words are rather misleading as we don't actually go "back" anywhere. But I didn't write them, and as long as they got us out of the arena, which they did, I have no quarrel with them.

**Amer Jones, District 10**

Things are pretty good on Not-Dead Tributes Island. The weather's great, we have plenty of food—yes, even with me here—and water, and since we're apparently in some sort of "alternate universe" or something—don't remember what Iggy called it—nobody's gonna find us if we don't want them to.

Since we got here, the Careers have calmed down a little bit. Dardana, thankfully, is no longer after my blood for whatever reason—I asked her, but she says she really doesn't remember now. Wiremu has discovered the joys of personal hygiene and has decided what he was going to do in the arena—I asked him, he did remember, and I kind of wish I didn't—was actually really gross and inhumane. Taberah got to beg Iggy for an alternate cure for her father, and he lives with us now. He's pretty cool. Makes great ice cream.

And then there's Vash, who pretty much stopped the idea of killing us once we told him he didn't have to. He just kinda hangs out by himself.

After a lot of convincing and possibly some more magic, Ania finally fell madly in love with Rome. Finni got over her fear of Sve, and they're even more inseparable than they were before. Natalya, _definitely _with the help of some magic, got a lot less obsessed with her brother and instead decided she really was satisfied as a single. And after Spain was involved in a freak unicorn accident and landed in the hospital—yes, we have a hospital, too—Lovi realised she was madly in love with him, and the two were immediately engaged to be married. But they put off the marriage for a while since pretty much everyone on the island agreed it would be kinda creepy for a 14-year-old to marry.

And then, for those of us who prefer friends to most everything else, that's about all we've gotten. By now, we're pretty much all best buds with each other. No reason not to be.

...Well, Sadik and Greis still squabble, and Iggy and Fronce are always arguing over something pointless, but that's nothing. We all know they don't hate each other deep down. How could anyone hate anyone else in a place like this?

I don't know what must be going on in Panem, but I bet without the Games it's a lot better place.

...Wonder what would have happened if we didn't have Iggy's magic. If we had to play.

Aw, who cares! I've got this life with all of my friends—and my family just a spell or two away—and I wouldn't give it up for anything.

And I don't think anyone on the island thinks differently.

* * *

_And that is what would have happened if NOFOJ wasn't NOFOJ._


	44. If China Didn't Eat the Sauce

Author's Note: This may be the last ending. I don't want this fic to get too long, and I'm sort of losing inspiration, anyway. I've pondered another ending, but it branches off of one of the alternate endings, and things just get confusing from there.

_Alternate Ending VI: What if China didn't eat the sauce?_

Everything is the same until chapter 19 of _Horrible_. The POV's of Amer Jones and Eston von Bock are the same here as they were in the original story. Although they do not appear here, the POV of Ania Jerume and the circumstances surrounding the giant lizard attack on the Careers have not changed.

* * *

**Amer Jones, District 10**

I can't sleep.

Not just because it's a little cold, or because my mind won't settle down.

I can't sleep because I have no allies. I've been depressed about not being able to watch someone else's back—but I guess I need someone to watch mine, too.

While I don't know for sure if the Careers are out... I can't take chances. Between getting enough sleep but getting a knife wound and staying alert but getting drowsy, I prefer the second option.

Kind of funny. I think this is the first time I'll be staying up all night. I've had a few sleepovers—which is code for "get all the boys together, eat unearthly amounts of pizza, then say you're having 'a pillow fight' so you have an excuse to beat the crap out of everyone"—but I always fell asleep eventually.

I sure hope I'll be able to stay awake now...

It would help to have someone to carry on a conversation with. But the only things I've run into are rocks. I haven't seen so much as a rabbit to talk to.

...

I want to talk to a rabbit. Crap, I'm going crazy.

**China Wang, District 6**

Something jabs me in the side, hard. I get up, coughing.

"Wha...?"

"Your watch."

I clear my throat and sit up as Igris treads over a metre and lies down.

Kicking someone in the ribs isn't a very polite way to wake her up. But of course, a boy wouldn't know any better. Tch.

I rock my weight over to my feet and stand up.

The pale moonlight gives the prarie grass an eerie tint, and it colours my allies' faces a deathly pale.

I continue looking down at them for a minute. I don't think Igris has quite fallen asleep, but if I want to run off, the time'll come soon.

...Do I want to run off? While hanging around these guys is driving me crazy, they do have a weapon. And food. And, if that Kirkland kid is as rich as all the Hunger Games articles said—unlike some of the others, I did a little research on my opponents—the donations are going to keep coming. And, that Fronce guy isn't too bad a chef.

Speaking of which...

I look over my allies' faces one last time to make sure they're not cognizant, then walk lightly to our little supply pile. Among the dirtied plates and unopened boxes of food is a little plastic bowl with a parachute tied tightly over its top. Our leftovers.

I sneak another glance back at my allies, but neither has stirred. Turning back to the current subject, I carefully remove the makeshift lid. All that's revealed is half a bowlful of that blue sauce.

Nice to know he would rather save it for himself than give me more. Greedy pig.

Shuffling through the other boxes—while that sauce is good enough to make a stick off the ground taste good, I don't think that's the best chance to take—until I find a decent-sized loaf of bread. I tear a little off and start using it to mop up some of the sauce.

I feel the slightest bit guilty at eating their food. I mean, I didn't cook it, and I didn't pick the berries. I should think at least some of the donation money came because of me, but most of it is definitely Igris's.

That doesn't give them the right to take food from me, though! If they agree to an alliance, we're supposed to split up everything evenly! I mean, I haven't done much yet, but I would have been happy to cook if they had just asked me instead of squabbling over it themselves!

But I _didn't _cook this. I don't have any right to it. I haven't earned an equal part of this alliance yet.

With a sigh, I look at the soaked bit of bread in my hand. Knowing I probably don't want to let the thing sit all night, I go ahead and eat that much. It definitely tastes good enough to convince me having more can't be a bad thing, but I'm too conscience-stricken to keep going. I begrudgingly put the bread back up and wrap the parachute back around the bowl of sauce.

I can always get more in the morning.

**Eston von Bock, District 7**

Looks like another day of slave labour for Raivis and me.

The tree our alliance is settled in has its share of wildlife. If it's within Vahn's—and his pickaxe's—range, we don't have to worry about actually killing anything. Although the tree is so tall most of its branches are actually out of range, a few straggling wooden arms reach low enough for Vahn to get to.

For breakfast today, we have a squirrel and two bright yellow birds. In most alliances, you would assume that means we get one each, but if yesterday's trends continue, the total's going to be split in favour of our captor.

But, no matter how much we actually end up getting, Raivis and I are the only ones preparing the meat. Even better, we still don't have anything to skin them with other than our fingers and sharp rocks.

Either way, we get at it. Who knows if we would find food at all on our own, anyway, right?

Okay, that's a pretty bad excuse. We just kind of don't have a choice.

I'm about halfway done with the squirrel when my ally yelps.

I snap my gaze up. "What happened?"

"O-Oh, nothing," he stutters, rubbing his right index finger with his other hand. "Just... nicked my finger."

"Ah, okay." I go back to my work, but in a few seconds I notice Raivis hasn't done the same. "Are you sure that's it?"

"Y-Yeah..." He looks down at the little smear of blood and sighs shakily.

"You still kind of shaken up from last night?" I suggest sympathetically.

He nods, looking at me with the kind of puppy dog eyes that could sway President Snow. "I-I'm scared, Eston," he says softly. "Do you—do you really think he'll... ch-chop off my f-fingers?"

I look down. "I don't know" is all I can truthfully say.

Raivis makes a small whining sound, rubbing his hands together like he's paranoid of losing them. "What if—wh-what if he ch-chops them a-all off?" he whimpers.

"He won't do that," I assure him. "He's only keeping us around to do the dull work for him, so you'd be useless without fingers."

Instead of comforting him, this suddenly sends him into more of a frenzy.

"H-He's going t-to chop them all off, and th-then I'll b-be useless, and h-he'll k-kill me!" he squeaks.

"No, no, that won't happen!" I reply, reaching over and grabbing Raivis by his shaking shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. "The only reason he's threatening to chop off your fingers is so you won't run away. And he said if we didn't stay with him, he'd kill us. So he's doing this in order to _not _have to kill you."

"O-Okay..." Raivis looks down at his hands. "B-But he'll try to kill us sometime," he whispers.

"It's only the second day. Don't worry about it," I say, removing my hands and re-seizing the squirrel.

...Honestly, I'm a bit unnerved myself, now. We might be all right on food and protection, but... It'll only last so long. When the time comes for Vahn to turn on us...

I'm not sure what we'll do.


	45. Throw in Some Action

Author's Note: The POV of Greis Karpusi here is the same as it was in the original story. Although they do not appear here, the circumstances regarding Lovi being held hostage and traded for food have not changed.

* * *

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

"_We're all going to die!_"

I set down the berry I was picking with a sigh. "We are _not _going to die," I inform Igris yet again. He still doesn't seem convinced.

"What's going on now?" comes a grumble. Looks like Igris's shouting has woken up China.

Igris points an accusatory finger at me. "He's poisoned us all!"

"What...?" comes the drowsy reply as China sits up.

"Just ignore him; he's spouting nonsense," I sigh.

"Nonsense? _Nonsense? _This is not nonsense! If those are the same berries you put in the sauce last night...!"

"What berries?" China responds, looking around for the insinuator of this whole mess.

"These," I say, pointing to the meager pile of berries I've picked since the recent sunrise.

"Yes!" Igris responds. "The _poisonous _ones right there!"

I sigh. "Igris, they're not—"

"Yes, they are! I can guarantee I saw those in the Training Centre, and _they are poisonous_!"

"Wait, what?" China responds, a bit more awake.

"I know what berries they are, Igris. And, unlike you, I know the proper way to use my ingredients."

Igris splutters. "When have I ever used ingredients incorrectly?"

I look at him blankly. "How about the time you substituted motor oil for olive oil?"

"I was out!"

"Why do you even act like that's an excuse?" I say in disbelief.

"Well—you're leading us off-subject!" he decides.

"I think it was actually your fault."

"I—"

"_But_," I interrupt, "I believe I was trying to explain why we're not poisoned. These berries—" I pick up my little stash—"can hardly be called poisonous in small amounts. With the diluted sauce I used, you'd have to get a good couple more spoonfuls than I dished out to just get sick. You'd probably have to down the whole rest of the bowl to actually die from it."

"What?" China responds slowly.

"There's nothing to worry about," I repeat. "I didn't give anyone a lethal amount. Especially you. Since you're a girl, you probably weigh less than us, and I wasn't completely sure how much your system could handle. So I gave you less. You'll be fine; don't worry about it."

"A-ah... Is... that right?" she mumbles, looking over her shoulder for no discernible reason. When she turns back around, she seems embarrassed; when she looks up a little to my eye level, she seems thankful; when she turns back away in just another second, she seems irritated.

Oh, I guess she's not content with owing a boy something. But that's all right. She should warm up to me eventually.

**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

The Cornucopia's not a bad mattress. Granted, I have to curl up pretty tight to fit in the tip of the horn, and the only blanket I have is a few packets of slings and things stacked up to obscure me from view, but... Not too shabby.

Heh. Before yesterday, I never would have thought I'd be hiding out here. But with so few Careers left after the bloodbath, I knew this thing would be unguarded when they went out to hunt. I wasn't expecting the 11's to ally with them, but it all worked out in the end, anyway.

So, while I'd rather not risk the noisiness of having breakfast, I didn't have too bad a feast last night. There were a lot of fruits, so my backpack has a few extra apple cores and banana peels in it. Wouldn't want to leave those lying around where the Careers could see them.

I wonder just how long I could stay in here. For the time being, until they need some slings and wrist braces. But I could rearrange the supplies back here every night, pulling the least-needed items close... As long as I stay silent, I'd be hard to find.

Oh, I'll probably leave when the Careers go hunting next. I shouldn't press my luck.

Although I guarantee this horn's going to be a lot emptier when I go.

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

Nothing much seems to be happening. The rest of the day went by just one cannon, and I haven't heard anything tonight, either.

...Which means we're absolutely screwed, and something is probably coming toward us right now.

The sun has set—I'm on watch, although the others haven't fallen asleep just yet—so the Careers are likely to be out. And if they don't find anyone, the Gamemakers will throw some muttation at us, I'm sure. And probably something designed to kill us rather than drive us toward other tributes. Of course, we're still mostly unarmed, so that wouldn't be good. Maybe we'll get lucky, and the mutt will be sicced on someone other than us.

...

We're not lucky.

With a sharp swear as the silhouettes approach us, I start kicking at my now-sleeping allies to get them awake as soon as possible. China isn't pleased but manages to shut up when I tell her we're about to be under attack. Fronce refuses to wake up, so I have to kick him in the head a few times before he finally rolls over and staggers to his feet.

By then, the Brobdingnagian cats have gotten to the crater wall.

"Move it!" I shout, shoving the sleepy and stunned duo forward but not waiting any further. I'm the first to get to the other side of the prairie, but by then my allies seem to have realised we need to run. They catch up to the wall when I've just climbed over it, and soon we manage to get running as a group.

The cats don't bother to mount the wall in coming after us; they take a detour around the side, which slows them a little but not that much. They're straight behind us in just moments.

Although I'm no longer in the lead—turns out, both of the Sixes can run better than me—we all end up gradually progressing downward as we run toward a conveniently flat section of the rocks. This is undoubtedly the best plan considering the cats don't seem to have any problem clambering over the jutting rocks.

Even when we get there, we can't help the mutts getting closer. Even with the moonless moonlight, we can't see the path well. And, considering those monsters are heavily based off cats, I'd say they _can_.

However they're catching up doesn't matter. They're catching up. Unless someone does something different, we—or at least I, since the others are a good metre ahead of me—won't be much longer for this world.

Just as I start to think I can't go on running, another crater approaches. I yell half-coherently that we need to try going in there, although I can't see what it holds just yet. More willing to risk the change in environment than the cats encroaching further, they heed my advice and start adjusting their path. They reach the wall in moments and start climbing; I stop watching them and focus on getting my own grip on the rocks. I pull myself onto the wall easily and, having no time to look things over, jump right in.

The sudden rush of dry heat makes me stumble backwards, my back bumping into the wall again. Before I can quite see what this location holds, a yelp of surprise too girly-sounding not to have come from Fronce distracts me, and I glance over where my alliance has entered.

Fronce is standing not too far from me, his right knee still in the air from a withdrawal reflex. Where he must have tried to put his foot is a little, glowing opening in the ground that I recognise as lava.

Well, that might help with the cats, if we can get out of here without being fried ourselves.

I look back to see where the mutts are now. They're almost at the crater wall.

And then I realise China is still at the crater wall. It looks like her foot got stuck on something; she's scrabbling at the rocks but unable to pull herself further.

Fronce notices this about the same time as I do, and he's closer, so he gets to help her over. It takes a second, but he finally tugs her free, and, gasping for breath as much as the rest of us, she lands on the unquestionably solid part of the crater.

The mutts reach the crater wall. Before I can form a proper plan, Fronce starts running, cutting in front of me, and I end up following him around the circumference. The ground here is perfectly solid, and, while we're quickly overheating, we at least have enough steam to keep going around.

Behind the thumping of China's footsteps, I can hear the mutts as they drop in one by one. The wall wasn't an obstacle, but they _are _much larger than us, so they're more likely to stumble onto the less-stable part of the volcano, right? We'll just have to keep circling until they—

China screams.


	46. Out of Hand

Author's Note: The POV of Eston von Bock here is the same as it was in the original story. Although they have been removed, the circumstances surrounding Taberah's death have not changed.

* * *

**China Wang, District 6**

Just when I think we've finally lost those stupid cat mutts, teeth rip into my hand. I scream louder than I'd like to admit and try to pull away, but I can't escape until the mutt bites all the way through. Knowing I'm missing some flesh but unable to tell how much, I just keep my hands close to my centre and focus on pouring on the speed.

Of course, that might not be the best idea when a thinly-covered vat of lava is right next to me.

I step a little too far to the side, and some of the ground buckles under me. With a shout, I start to trip up but manage to stumble back over to solid ground before my shoe has quite been burnt through. I end up adjusting too much and ramming into the wall. Almost unable to breathe between the exertion, the heat, and the pain, I force myself to keep running nonetheless.

I'm still disoriented, and I end up wandering back over to the danger zone. I manage to get both feet over there this time before I realise where I am and start stumbling back over to the crater edge. Almost falling over, I just feel either the molten rock or the heat burning through the last bit of my left shoe and onto my toes before I'm suddenly yanked away by the tribute in front of me. I've lost track of who it is. It's too—freaking—hot...

He's afraid to let me go lest I go off-course again, but it doesn't matter; I just can't run anymore. I collapse to the warm ground and am dragged only for a moment before my ally finally loses his grip.

The cats haven't magically disappeared. I hear them screeching, behind me. It's just a matter of time until...

But a few moments pass, and I haven't been bitten. They're still screeching away, but...

...Has it gotten hotter in here? It's... really hot...

I still don't sense any injury besides my hand when I black out.

**Eston von Bock, District 7**

I'm woken up in the middle of the night. It's not for my watch; I feel like I just nodded off from my last one, but the more obvious reason: I'm woken up by voices. More specifically, a very sharp cry of "Don't!".

It's followed by Vahn saying, "I already gave you vun chance."

Raivis tries to say something back, but ends up stuttering so badly he can't get anything out.

What are these guys doing up this late, anyway? Vahn wanted his sleep, and...

Wait.

The snippet of conversation bounces around my head for another minute before I suddenly realise what's happening. Stomach squirming with the onslaught of dread, I hurriedly push myself to my feet.

"What's going on?" I call quickly as I can, to buy time if need be.

Vahn pauses and looks back at me, one hand around his pickaxe, the other cementing Raivis's left hand to the giant tree trunk.

"Zees one tried to run avay aygain," he replies, pointing at Raivis with his pickaxe as if the subject wasn't clear.

Again? After the fright last time, I never would have thought he'd try to escape... Although he has been scared out of his mind all day, and you'd think Vahn would be fast asleep by this time.

_Does _the guy ever sleep? I'm starting to think he might not.

"So," continues Vahn, "I am going to carry out hees punishment."

Raivis chooses now to look over at me—he's so utterly terrified I'd have to be heartless to not help him.

But what am I supposed to say? I obviously can't appeal to Vahn's human side; if he had one, he wouldn't dream of carrying out this sentence. I guess I'll have to go with logic again.

"He won't be able to work as efficiently if you do that, you know," I start, words coming out quickly. "Not only would he be missing a finger, he'd be in too much pain to work all that much."

Vahn watches as I approach. "But I _do_ haev two of you," he replies.

"That's true, but..." I stall. It's hard to do this when I have no idea what he really wants from us. It's obviously more than just slave labour. "But even if you do have to do it—" I flinch as my words make Raivis pale—"you should wait."

"And vy is sat?"

"Just think about it," I respond, unable to come up with any arguments that could actually stop this, only ones to buy time. "It's night, and the Careers are probably out hunting now. If you... punish him, the pain would make him scream—and it'd bring all of the Careers running straight for us!"

Considering this for a moment, Vahn spins the pickaxe around in his hand. The onslaught of silence is stifling, and I find myself scraping my foot on a root beneath to make it stop. Though I doubt it really is, it seems like a whole minute before Vahn responds.

"I cane handle a few Careers."

Horror pricking down my spine, I open my mouth to argue otherwise.

But before I can get a word out, the pickaxe tears sickeningly through Raivis's hand and thumps into the tree behind.

And then come the screams.

I can only look on in disbelief as Vahn pulls his weapon back and releases Raivis, still shaking, still shrieking, to contemplate the sickening and blood-slicked edge of a hand where a pinky once was. It takes me a minute to thaw from the shock and rush over to help somehow. Raivis has fallen back against the tree and slid down into a quivering seated position, so I seat myself next to him.

It takes all the humanity I have to remain convinced I should stay here. Between the screaming he's unable to stop and the gruesome mess the side of his hand's been turned into—complete with an awful-looking piece of bone jutting from the torn tissue—it's beyond tempting to leave.

But I won't. We're allies. And if that kind of thing happened to me, I sure wouldn't want to be deserted.

So I stay.

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

It's dawn by the time we get back to the prairie crater. With all of us exhausted and a little burnt up—not to mention China losing consciousness from being the most exposed to the heat—it wasn't an easy trip. But we had to get out of the volcano crater, and we didn't know where else to go but back.

But I'm not complaining. We're all alive.

I suppose we have China to thank for that, in a way, for stumbling over onto the lava. The stupid cat behind her trailed right behind, but, not having Igris to pull it away, got burnt horribly, and one of its friends was genius enough to try and get it out of there at the cost of its ownlife. The last one hightailed it the other way around the mountain, and I don't care where it went as long as it doesn't come back for us.

So, things are pretty peaceful now. I'm preparing a little cold breakfast from bread and the remaining sauce while ignoring the persistent headache from Igris's courteous waking technique. Igris is using a small length of bandage to patch up China's hand and foot. On her hand, the pinky is halfway gone, and smaller chunks have been taken out the neighbouring two fingers. Igris doesn't manage to wipe away all of the muttation's blackish saliva but clears off most of China's blood before wrapping up the hand. He doesn't do anything with her foot but remove the remainder of shoe—the sock was burned through—and wrap up the foot. She didn't get any burn medicine or disinfectant. I don't know if she will.

My foot might need a little, too. While I didn't actually contact the molten stuff, I can tell my toes are pretty roasted. It's not a nice feeling, especially when we might have to run away at any moment, but there's not much I can do about it. Just ignore it and hope some of Igris's sponsors will have a little pity on his allies.

We all know we could use it.


	47. On the Run

Author's Note: Although they do not appear here, the circumstances regarding Amer's happy hero fun times with Eston and Raivis have not changed.

* * *

**Spain Carriedo, District 3**

It's suppertime, so I distribute two more of our tomatoes. Lovi eats it too quickly and once again starts complaining about how hungry she is.

I've given up. I just don't understand her. I'm going to do things my way, and if she doesn't like it, she can leave.

Okay, no. I'm not going to let her leave, and I know it. Annoying as she is, she's still company... And... I don't know. I guess I feel the need to protect someone. I still feel bad about Perdita, even though I probably shouldn't.

—No. I should feel bad about it. It's just the Capitol trying to tell me I shouldn't. And I don't want them to control me! I really, _really _don't want that! It's bad enough already, with my reaction to Maria's death... And Aztinca...

All right, I definitely don't need to be thinking about her right now. Let's just focus on what's happening here.

So I focus.

And I suddenly hear growling.

"...and you could at _least _give me more than one stinkin' toma—"

"Lovi, quiet," I urge, looking around.

"If you give me another tomato, I'd be happy to compl—"

"Be quiet!" I roar. She finally snaps her mouth shut.

Something's still growling, but I don't see it anywhere.

"S-Spain? What's that?" Lovi starts, her voice terrifyingly lower.

I turn to see where she's shakily pointing and scrutinise the area. It's hard to see with all of these leaves hanging around...

And then I can finally make it out.

An impossibly large cat—it looks like a common housecat, but with raggedy fur and fangs the size of my hand—prowls toward us.

I take a cautious step back. It doesn't seem to provoke the big cat, so I pull Lovi back a little. She doesn't quite get the message in time and ends up stumbling and falling back onto me.

The cat snarls and comes bounding toward us.

Lovi shrieks, turning and pelting away from it, and I hurry behind her after shaking off the surprise. It's easy for us to run since we're in a thinner part of the jungle—but that makes it easier for the mutt, too. While it's easily Lovi's height and at least twice as thick, it has no trouble navigating.

It's only a few seconds before I can tell it's gaining on us, despite our best efforts. Lovi can run surprisingly fast, and I'm not that slow myself, but at this rate we'll be cat food soon.

So, what? We try to fight? All I have is one hammer. I might be able to throw it hard at one of them, but I'm not sure just how much damage it would do. I could always just try to punch and kick at it if that doesn't do the trick, though...

Not that sure of myself, I hesitate and check where the mutt is now. Not getting any farther away, that's for sure. I still waver, but finally whip around, flinging the hammer as hard as I can straight behind me.

The cat dodges.

Flustered, I turn back around. So much for that idea...

Powered by adrenaline, my mind speeds through the remaining options. There's not enough time to make any sort of trap. I can't think of any outstanding trees or vines that they could get stuck in. My sponsors aren't likely to come up with a better weapon, considering they just sent a few days' worth of food.

Just as I've crossed off every possible choice I can think of, Lovi lurches for a nearby tree and starts scrambling up.

...Could _that _work? I'm pretty sure cats can climb trees... But if that mutt is as heavy as it looks, maybe climbing'll be harder for it?

Well, I don't have any better ideas.

I pull myself up to the lowest branch—a feat considering one of my arms is occupied with our alliance's food—put a foot on the next highest, and, leaning against the trunk, push myself up. I continue to scale it until I'm resting on one about a foot below the seated and panting Lovi. I stay standing, though, peering down through the leaves to see the cat pull up to our tree. It immediately pounces on the lowest branch, tilting the tree a good ten degrees. I hold my breath—which is pretty useless since it obviously knows where we are—and then hear a nerve-wracking splintering sound. The mutt yowls as its branch snaps off, and the tree rocks away from it, trying to get itself straight again. Wobbling, the tree tries to buck me off, but I manage to hold on.

The cat below has starting circling the tree, looking for a better place to start. Entertained by the slightest of hopes, I calm down enough to notice Lovi is crying. I glance over—since she's seated and I'm standing, our eyes are about the same level—to see her shakily clinging to her branch and sobbing.

I guess I can't blame her. Although we're safe for the moment, our futures aren't looking very promising.

A grating sound grabs my attention, and I direct my gaze back down.

"It's clawing its way through the trunk!" I breathe, looking around to confirm the nearest tree isn't within jumping distance.

"W-We're gonna die!" Lovi sobs, shaking.

"No, we're not," I respond automatically, although I believe it less by the second. The tree is starting to tilt again, and I have to grip a lot harder to keep from sliding.

"We're gonna die!" Lovi repeats, bawling so hard I can barely understand her. "Spain," she gets out after a few failed tries, "I'm sorry I never thanked you..." She sniffles loudly. "But th-th-th—" she seems to have a lot of trouble vocalising this—"thank you. For the food and for saving me from that crazy tribute and for taking watch so I could go to sleep and for getting me off the starting platform and for just helping me and-and-and..." She can't seem to say any more of whatever she's trying to say, so I take the chance to put in my own words.

"It's okay, Lovi," I reply softly, putting my hand over hers in an attempt to comfort her. She doesn't seem to notice. "I forgive you. And... you're welcome."

We stay there wordless for a minute before I suddenly realise something.

The tree isn't pitching anymore.

I look down, noting subconsciously the scratching noises have also stopped, and see the cat ambling away.

"Wha—" I cut myself off. While it probably hasn't up and forgotten we're here, I don't want to take chances.

The mutt keeps moving away hypnotically, and soon it has stepped over the jungle edge and disappeared around the side of the mountain.

Lovi, having her eyes closed tightly the whole time, doesn't notice their absence until I give her a little shake and prompt her to look.

"It's gone," I say warily, as if saying so could bring it back.

"Y-Yeah?" She peers down, sniffling, and finally discerns that it's gone. "Oh..." She's stopped crying in a matter of seconds.

"Yeah, nothing to worry... about..." I trail off at Lovi's bizarre mood change. Her countenance has darkened so much I'm grateful she's still turned toward the tree.

"I didn't say anything," she finally gnarrs.

I blink. "What?"

Slowly, like it's some sort of horror movie, she turns to glare at me. "You. Heard. _Nothing_."

"Er... Okay, okay! You... didn't say anything?" I respond, a bit confused as to why she's so averse to her own gratitude being known.

"That's right," she grumbles, shakily starting back down the tree.


	48. Reflection

Author's Note: Although they do not appear here, the circumstances surrounding the Amer-Eston-Raivis alliance's move from the pine crater and Sadik's death have not changed. The POV of Amer Jones here is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

China doesn't wake up until early evening. She doesn't say anything at first, but I'm soon able to chalk that up to dehydration. Having received plenty of lukewarm water, I give her a canteen, which she empties in moments. She looks around the crater, just now able to get her bearings a little, and discovers both me and Fronce sitting in here with her.

"What happened?" she finally starts, voice still rough.

"The mutts got burnt to a crisp. All but one, at least. And then we carried you back over here. That's all," I answer dismissively.

China makes a "hm" noise and shifts her feet. She immediately cringes, glancing down at the bandages wrapped around her worse-burnt foot. "No burn medicine?" she mumbles disapprovingly.

"Not just yet." I unconsciously glance at my arm, which is redder than tomato ketchup on a lobster. Lovely condition to have when we're likely to get normal sunburn on top of it. All of us will need medicine to some extent—me less than Fronce or China, since I managed not to stumble onto the lava one way or the other—so I don't see why the sponsors haven't gotten to it yet. Maybe they're saving up for some high-class goods.

And just about the time I finish thinking that, a donation comes clinking down.

It's a small jar, about seven centimetres tall and its diameter about ten centimetres. Although it isn't labelled, I'm already quite sure what the thing is.

"I guess all we had to do was ask," responds Fronce with a smile.

"All right, all right." I unscrew the lid and, just in case my suspicions aren't correct, swipe a little smidgen of cream across the back of my arm. The pleasant, cool tingle is immediate, and I'm seriously tempted to spread a little more on my roasted limbs. My injuries aren't the worst, though; I'd better tend to China first.

As I unravel the bandage from her foot, she hisses in pain, although I can tell from her expression she doesn't approve of her response. The slightly-crumbly, black surface I reveal makes me cringe a little, and I start to wonder if the medicine is even appropriate for burns this bad.

Well, here's hoping.

"All right," I start, speaking quickly and unemotionally as I gather a glob of cream on my fingers, "this is probably going to inflict unimaginable levels of pain, so be prepared."

Not sure whether to be amused or insulted, China just narrows her eyes at me a little before closing them in anticipation. I carefully apply a tiny dab onto the top of her foot. Immediately tensing up, China lets out a restrained, high-pitched little "a-aah". Able to identify this as coming more from pain than relief, I continue spreading at the same achingly-slow pace.

Once her foot is finally aptly covered, I pivot to face Fronce. "Do _you_ have any dire injuries?"

"No, I'm fine," he replies, standing up to prove it when I look at him sceptically.

"Get on your tiptoes," I command, still not convinced.

Fronce raises an eyebrow but complies. He immediately jumps with a yelp of pain and tumbles to the ground.

"Yes, you're obviously perfectly fine," I say sarcastically. "Wonderful time to attempt to be a manly man, Fronce."

Fronce replies with something, but his voice is muffled by the prairie grass, and by the time he sits back up he apparently doesn't think his response was witty enough to repeat.

"All right, take your shoes and socks off," I sigh, scooting over toward him. He obeys, first revealing his more or less undamaged foot, then uncovering the foot with aptly-roasted toes. Actually seeing the damage suddenly puts him in much more pain, and it's a struggle to keep his foot from twitching away whenever I try to apply some cream.

Eventually, I have the darkest part covered, and I finally allow myself to rub a thinner layer over my arms, neck, and face. While my clothing doesn't do as well protecting from the volcanic vent as from the sun—I'm just as burnt beneath my shirt and jeans—I don't want to use up too much cream on minor burns.

I pass the jar around so the remainder of the alliance can coat their widespread burns and end up screwing the lid back on afterward.

**Amer Jones, District 10**

I drag myself back to where my alliance is sleeping.

Oh, I don't feel good. My stomach's beyond sore, my head is throbbing like crazy, and I'm just beat up. I bet it's gonna be even worse in the morning.

And now, thanks to my lack of wearable glasses, everything's blurry. I'm not going to be walking face-first into tree trunks or anything, but I'm definitely not going to notice details. It'll be worse long-distance. I don't think an approaching tribute would disappear from sight, but it'd probably just be a moving blob over the hazy mountainside.

But you know what? It's worth it. I protected my alliance from a hostile tribute, and I'm not beaten up enough to be unable to do it again.

I cringe at my thought process. Protection or not, I still just killed a human being. But… I-I don't know. It's not like I don't have good reason. The guy pulled a knife on me. I wouldn't be able to keep fighting if it went on longer—not to mention he was about to knock me out. He may have lost the knife by then, but… If I'm not conscious, I can't really stop him from getting to it and killing me with it.

And if I'm gone, who's gonna protect my friends?

I clear the edge of the jungle and trudge on to my left, following my own footprints left in the soil. I reach my sleeping friends—in about five times the time it took to trek this distance unharmed—and slump down, back against the crater wall.

Within a few seconds of my doing this, a parachute comes drifting down. The donation lands in my lap, and I pull the cloth away.

I've received a sort of armoured glove, with several plates arranged on top of the cloth so I can still move my fingers unobstructed. There's no metal on the palm, but all of the plates on the furthermost joints—the fingertips, that is—have been drawn out past the cloth into shiny, sharp claws.

So I've gotten a nice weapon. The Capitol approves of what I've done tonight. But do I?

I don't know. No matter how I justify it, there's just something inherently wrong with killing another person. Maybe we could have become friends?

Well, no, that wouldn't happen. Every time I—or anyone else I saw, for that matter—approached Sadik in the Training Centre, he reacted in a very unfriendly way.

Maybe he wouldn't have gone through with killing me?

Well… He always acts hostile. He had a knife. If he wanted to live, he would have had to kill me, anyway, so I don't see why he wouldn't when he had the perfect chance.

No matter whether I'm trying to say what I did is right or wrong, I just keep going in circles. Things just don't make sense here. In the Hunger Games. It's senseless enough to force children to fight to the death without having to make it more… _interesting _for the viewers. Making the arena huge, so everyone can sneak up on everyone else. So people can hide, so people can ally. So people can betray the alliance and kill everyone anyway. So no one can trust anyone else unless they're foolish.

Hm. I guess that means I'm foolish for trusting Eston and Raivis so much. But you know what? I don't care. I don't care much about anything anymore. I just… I just want to help some people. I may end up traumatised, I may end up heartbroken, I may end up dead. But I don't care. I'm just going to help as many people as possible. And if that means hurting a few people, well, I'd rather let myself be a monster than force my friends to murder.

I don't know what difference I'm hoping to make.

But I really hope it's a good one.


	49. Surprise Find

Author's Note: Congratulations to Obiwanlivesforever for the 200th review! *confetti and puppies begin raining from the sky*

Although they do not appear here, the circumstances surrounding the deaths of Raivis, Eston, Vahn, and Finni have not changed.

* * *

**China Wang, District 6**

Although my foot's starting to feel a little better since the medicine's been put on it, the ebbing pain only makes my hand hurt worse. I haven't let myself look at it yet. I don't know how much I've lost, and I'm not sure I really want to.

Luckily, there's plenty to distract me. At present, the disturbance is from the boys arguing over who should cook supper.

Do they honestly have to do this every time? Stupid boys...

With a sigh, I keep watching them.

I mean, they've saved my life, but they're still stupid boys... Stupid boys I'm indebted to...

"I can cook."

The two immediately cut off their bickering and look over at me.

"What?" starts Igris, his tone not quite shifted out of animosity.

Still perturbed that this is what I've been reduced to, I look down. "I can cook for you guys. I'm a pretty good chef, and, uh..." I move my legs uncomfortably. "I... I'm not really in any condition to repay you otherwise..." Though I still don't look at them, I shift whatever fingers remain on my right hand.

Fronce smiles at me. "You don't have to repay us. I couldn't consider myself a gentleman if I accepted recompense."

Nearly having to bite my tongue to refrain from screaming, "Don't give me that stupid chivalry crap!", I don't respond immediately.

Igris beats me to the punch. "Oh, let her if she wants to. Probably cooks better than you, anyway." Fronce shoots him a glare, which he takes evenly.

"All right; I'll get started, then." Wincing that I have to crawl over to the supplies but thankful they're not far, I paw through the food with my uninjured hand.

**Spain Carriedo, District 3**

Looks like that life-and-death situation didn't change anything after all.

Well, I'm a little more paranoid of crazy mutts running around, but that doesn't really count. Lovi's acting the same, like she never said anything yesterday, and I'm... probably acting the same as before, too. The only thing that's different doesn't have anything to do with our personalities—it's only that we've lost that hammer. I don't know where I was when I threw it, and we can't find it for anything. But it's not like it was doing us much good, so I'm sure we can survive without it.

Right now, we're just hanging out around the trees. We've gotten through almost half of the tomatoes, but that means we still have more than half left to eat. It may not be the most varied diet, but I'd rather eat tomatoes over and over than go out and get mauled by some waiting mutt.

Yeah, our supplies aren't going to last forever. But we may as well take advantage of them while we can.

"Hahahahaha!" I look around in confusion at the sudden laughter, still weirded out by the time it starts being stifled. It sounded like Lovi, and it sounded like it came from the direction she was going to in order to... do the opposite of eat. She certainly doesn't sound endangered, and I really don't want to walk in on her in an awkward moment, but this is the Hunger Games. I'd much rather embarrass her than risk her life.

I get to my feet and start slowly toward Lovi. All the leaf-rustling I'm doing in the process would warn an attacker, anyway, so I call her name.

"Uh—yeah, one sec!" she responds quickly, and I stop in my tracks. I'm just being paranoid. She's still fine. While I have no idea why she would find reason to laugh at this particular time, she_is_ pretty strange.

But she still doesn't come around, leaving me befuddled. Is it really her? Is there some jabberjay messing with me instead? I don't see how laughing could be the best way to do that—not only would a scream bring me running faster, that'd be much easier to make than a laugh with the audio software.

So it has to be her. There's no other possibility.

I wait for a minute, but she still doesn't progress toward me.

What's going _on_?

Keeping my gaze high in case I walk in on something I shouldn't, I step over toward Lovi. She soon comes into view; she's fully clothed, sitting, back toward me, hunched over.

"Lovi?" I call uncertainly. "What are you doing?"

Lovi jumps a little bit, glances back at me quickly, and turns back around. "Nothing," she says quickly, her voice a bit muffled.

"Lovi?" I walk over to her side, and she hunches more. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing!"

"Lovi."

She moans, like she really doesn't want to reveal her find, and straightens up. Clutched tightly to her chest is the bag of beef jerky.

"You found—"

"Yeah, I found it. So it's mine," she interrupts, grasping the bag tighter.

"Well... I found the tomatoes, so I could claim all of them," I counter.

"Fine," she scoffs, "I don't need your stinking tomatoes. Just don't take my jerky." She finishes by shoving what I assume is not her first piece of jerky today in her mouth.

"Okay..."

This girl's crazy.

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

I'm a little unsure about letting China cook, but I guess it wouldn't be very polite to reject her humble proposal.

At least I don't have to be concerned about her skills. Even though it's clear she has to use her non-dominant hand for everything, she hasn't mixed together anything questionable.

She finishes before sunset, setting us up with some saucy, more-or-less fried chicken. It's really not bad. While it obviously can't compare with my cooking, it's great considering she didn't even have a proper pan to fry these in.

When she looks at us to check our reactions, I give her a thumbs-up and keep eating.

Igris meets her gaze for a second before continuing his meal unenthusiastically.

"This would be better if _I_ cooked it," he sighs.

"Wha!" I snap my head around to gawk at him. "Y-you can't be serious! That's the worst insult _anyone_ could get from _you_!"

Igris just shrugs, and, while China is understandably as infuriated by this as me, she can't do anything more about it. She just grumbles something to herself and finishes her own meal.

"Ow!"

I flick my gaze back over to China, who's shaking her injured hand out a little. She hesitates before looking at it.

"Are you all right?" I start.

"Yeah..." she mumbles, still looking at the bandaged-up mess. "Do you... Do you think it's all right to take this off for a minute...?"

"Surely." I try to assist her, but she scoots out of my reach and unwraps her digits herself. Emitting a little scared sound of disgust, she examines the torn-off ends. But this apparently isn't the whole horror to her.

"Why... is it black...?"

Disturbed, I lean in a little closer and look at the tips of her fingers. Sure enough, all three of the mangled tips are blackish, and the colour extends a little bit down toward her hand.

"Oh, that's just the mutt's spittle," dismisses Igris, knowing this off the top of his head since he wrapped up her injury. "I couldn't quite get all of it off you. It must stain."

"Ah, all right..." Still with an eerie feeling, China continues examining the remains of her hand. "I-I'll keep this wrapped up," she mumbles, sort of to herself. With an exhale, she starts winding the bandage back around her mauled fingers. Once she's done, she cringes a little, like the image still pains her.

I'd like to say something comforting, but there really isn't much solace when she's immobilised and missing something she'll never get back.


	50. Downward Spiral

**Amer Jones, District 10**

Water sloshes around my feet as I languidly drag my glove through the small waves. It would probably be better to wash it further from the shoreline, but once I take two steps away from the dry sand, the ground underfoot starts sucking me downward. I'll just play it safe. For whatever reason.

Same reason I'm alive now, I guess. Basic survival instinct or something. On some level, I guess I'm still human. I don't have morals enough to do the right thing and kill myself—I'm instead going with the cold logic of preserving my life for the sake of life. Still, this doesn't make much sense, considering I obviously have no regard for life. If I did, I wouldn't have killed anyone—let alone disembowel a guy for killing in honestly pretty painless ways. I only did that because the people he killed were my friends. If I saw him kill someone I didn't know, I don't think I'd care. I'd just label it another tragedy and run off before I would get hurt.

In the end, it's just me worrying about my own life, my own circumstances. So of course I don't want to kill myself like justice calls for. I'd rather just sit here and hope I make some new friends, so I have an excuse to get myself closer to home by killing in their defence. And then I just go on slaughtering until I finally go back to my district where everyone now hates me.

Of course everyone hates me. I'm just another coward who succumbed to the Games and turned into a murderer. That's not sympathetic. So my friends died right in front of me. I doomed any pity by killing others myself. I know no one likes me. Not even my family.

Especially not my family. To work so hard to raise a good child only to watch him shun everything you've taught him and turn into a self-preserving monster. I've wounded them too much for them to still love me. I've betrayed them thoroughly. And they have to go on living with the shame of being related to a boy too blind to even think about reparations for what he's done.

And killing myself is the only way I could even try to make things right. I have no other friends. Clearly, no one else here needs me. I'm hurting these people every second I'm alive, but I'm still not going to do anything about it.

So, no one needs me. No one loves me. I just don't have any reason to live other than only not wanting to die.

I realise I've lost my grip on the glove. It's drifting feebly outward, slowly sinking as it continues. I slosh after it and, once I reach it, stand still with the edge of the cloth in my grasp.

It also comes to my attention that I've started crying again. I couldn't say when I began, but I'm perfectly sure I'm crying for myself. I don't have enough respect for those I've hurt—or else I wouldn't have hurt them in the first place.

Water suddenly surges up to my shins. A little surprised, I try to stumble away but find pulling my feet out of the sand is too hard to do quickly. The stuff's made to trap me. It didn't get strong enough this time—it takes a little struggle, but I get my feet free—but it could get me any minute.

I'm supposed to die here. The environment's designed to trap me and drag me under, and death is the only way I can repay my crimes.

I feel my feet sinking again but hesitate to pull them out.

Maybe... Just maybe... Can I... Can I do this? I just... have to stand here awhile... I... don't have anything home to return to... If I live, it'll just be worse for me... I still have the impulse to live, as a human, but... Can I push it aside... just this once? Can I... finally... do what I _should_ do? Can I overcome myself... overcome my cowardice... and make it right?

With a shuddering breath, I stand still.

The water and sand both seem to rise steadily. The first grains start to creep up under the bottoms of my jean legs.

All right... I'm going to do this...! I'm going to kill myself, here and now...

To my surprise, the wave of emotion following my recognition of this is more like relief than fear. I... I can do this. I'm too weak to easily let myself die, but the arena...! I just stand here for a while, and...

I shift my foot. Or try to. It won't budge. Neither will the other.

It's done. It's set. No turning back—I'm going to die. _I'm going to die...! _

Exhilarated, I let go of my glove and watch as the water approach the bottom of my shirt.

I'm going to do this after all...! I can serve justice to myself! It won't... It could never make anything better for those I've killed, those I've led to their deaths, those I've hurt from the other side of the television screen. But that kind of thing just can't happen here. This is the best, dare I say it, the most heroic thing I can do in this place. Try to save my friends, and when I fail and turn murderer, kill myself. Try love, and, when it fails, provide retribution in the only way possible.

I failed... So hard... So, so hard... But I can at least do this. I can't do anything else good, but I can at least do this!

The water has reached my solar plexus when I hear Panem's anthem. Not quite feeling dying quietly is enough punishment, I look up.

The first face is Eston's. I literally led him straight to his death just for the sake of my own vengeance. He was smart. Smart enough to survive much longer if I didn't misguide him.

Next is Vahn. His picture looks down sternly, although in my mind his face warps to the tortured expression, the bearing of the boy who just wanted to go home, that I saw just before I turned downward to look at the horrific damage I'd caused him. I wouldn't let him go home, in some twisted punishment far worse than the crime.

Next is an unwarranted break, a picture of a girl I didn't know. I calm down just enough to hear my gasping sobs.

And then Raivis appears. I may have done him the worst. He could have died honourably. He was scared when he realised he was going to die. But he didn't complain. He didn't beg. He accepted it like a man. But I ruined the virtue of his death by letting it launch me into a murderous rage. Because of me, Raivis isn't the tortured, innocent little boy who died quietly and nobly. He's the boy who made that villainous Amer kid go completely insane.

Raivis's timid little smile disappears, and soon the anthem vanishes as well. It's easier to hear me weeping hysterically now.

I killed these people. I allowed one friend to die and forced the other, and made an enemy go through the worst torure imaginable until he finally bled out. And that's not even all of it. I killed Sadik, too. He never even attacked me. He never attacked anyone. I just killed him, up and killed him, just in case. Destroyed his future and his friends and family, just in case he might try to hurt my friends. I destroyed Natalya's life, too, and anyone else Vahn knew. More than that. Anyone who still has a soul I've hurt. Anyone who watched what I've done, who had to witness a boy driven to murder horribly and see the grimy details of it all. Anyone who knows what havoc that can wreak on those who loved the victims. Anyone who suffered it themselves and have to relive it.

Suddenly overwhelmed, I'm unable to stand living any longer. The water's only up to my neck, though, so I dunk my head under.

Despite my hardest efforts, I can only inhale a few splutters of water before my instincts force me back into the air.

Why? _Why? _I have to die; why can't I die right now? Why am I making myself wait? Why am I still here?

I try to submerge myself again, but it doesn't work any better. I resurface to water at chin level.

Just... a little longer... I only have to... disgrace these people's memories with my life... a little longer...

The water rises above my mouth, but instincts force me to breathe through my nostrils.

And then the water finally immerses the last part of me that can breathe.

I end up holding my breath for a while. It's really not long, since my weeping has stolen a lot of my breath already. In only a moment, I run out of oxygen, and my body attempts to inhale more.

Water stabs through my throat and down into my lungs. I try to cough it out, but there's no air to force it away, and I only take in more. More stabbing, more piercing further into me. My awareness gets fuzzy, but the pain still gets worse. The assault of the salt water only keeps shredding into my lungs like I shredded into Vahn.

It hurts so much... It hurts so much... I'm so glad—I deserve this... But it hurts so much... I feel my lungs being ripped to dysfunctional frays, my heart confused at the loss of oxygen but trying vainly to pound more life through me... I feel my blood pressure waning as my lungs start to give up to save some part of themselves...

I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I did all that... I'm sorry my family can't have me back... I-I can't apologise enough... Hopefully... Hopefully dying will have to do...

My consciousness fades away.


	51. Ominous

Author's Note: For those of you who may have been confused, the girl in the death toll that Amer didn't know was Finni.

Although they do not appear here, the circumstances surrounding Sve meeting Natalya in the tree crater have not changed.

* * *

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

Fronce wakes me up for watch with a kick to the head. I respond by grabbing his ankle and toppling him over.

"Touché," he grumbles before rolling over to sleep.

I harrumph at him and shift around until I can push myself to my feet. Not having many other ways to keep myself awake, I pace slow circles around the central tree.

I've made two laps when I suddenly notice China fidgeting. Is she dreaming or awake?

Having nothing better to do, I walk over toward her. It's soon very obvious that she's not asleep. She's just shifting around uncomfortably to find some way to start dozing.

"Been awake long?"

She rolls over, stopping when she's face-up. "Dunno."

"Well, get to sleep already. There's no point in having two of us up."

"I've been trying to," she grumbles, pivoting to rest on her side. "My stupid hand hurts too much."

"Hm." I push some of my bangs out of my eyes. "Well, you'd better get used to it. After that burn medicine, we're not going to get any quality painkiller."

"Figures." She shuffles her legs.

For a moment I wonder if there might be something else wrong with her hand. It could easily get infected in that condition. We should probably wash it out, just in case... But we can't now. It's too dark. Neither of us could tell what would be going on.

It's probably about midnight now. I don't think an infection would get out of control before the break of dawn. She can handle it. She's less of a wimp than Fronce.

I go back to circling the tree, and a good while later go over to "wake" her up for watch. It doesn't look like she fell asleep since I saw her earlier. Hm. Maybe I should just let her try to get to sleep. She'll need some sort of shut-eye if she's going to be any sort of coherent in the morning.

So rather than getting her up for watch, I stay awake as long as I can stand, and then go wake Fronce up with a blunt kick to the spine.

**China Wang, District 6**

I must end up falling asleep eventually, since I'm woken up by daylight. Did I ever take watch? Eh, guess it doesn't matter, since we obviously haven't fallen under attack.

Although my hand has already started to prickle at a level just over uncomfortable, I stretch pleasurably and sit up. Fronce is poking through the supplies for breakfast while Igris watches disgruntledly. He must have lost the rock-paper-scissors again.

For a moment I wonder if I could try to just cook the rest of the group's meals myself. There's not much otherwise I can do for the alliance, and if I end up owing them for something else, I wouldn't be happy with it. But considering that for my whole life I've been against women being expected to slave over hot stoves to cook for the men, I really can't bring myself to be okay with it now. They seem to like cooking, anyway.

The more I wake up, the more my hand hurts. It's not enough to make me scream or anything, but I definitely have to start gritting my teeth.

"Ah, you're up!"

Distractedly, I look over toward the voice but still can't figure out which of the two said it.

"Yeah, I am," I reply dully, ending with a yawn. "Barely."

"Well, good morning!" Fronce says cheerily as he picks out a few ingredients.

"Yeah, morning," I respond, not wanting to be too rude, even if he does always sound like he's flirting with me. "What are we eating?"

"Just some fruit salad. Sound good to you?"

"Yeah, that sounds fine." I unconsciously glance down at my bandaged hand.

"Still hurting?" Igris puts in, striding toward me with his hands in his pockets. "We should probably check on it," he continues, not waiting for an answer, "just in case infection is trying to creep in."

I respond with a noncommittal grunt, and he squats down next to me to unwrap the bandage. The cloth shifting over my wounds somehow doesn't make me cringe, but I'm not complaining.

Not eager to see the damage again, I look away once I can tell he's unravelling the last layer.

So I have no idea what's going on when Igris exclaims something incoherent and jumps back.

"What?" I start, at first feeling he's just trying to pull a fast one on me. I wouldn't put it past him.

"I... don't think that's supposed to look like that," he breathes, wiping his hands furiously on his trousers.

"Look like what?" I echo distrustfully, my eyes slowly moving down to investigate the source of the hubbub. I'm on the edge of seeing the damage when Fronce decides to come over. Far from stopping because of him, I finally take in my hand.

The three injured fingers are completely black. At about the knuckle, the skin colour starts to creep back, and the rest of my palm is untouched. A little streak of dark grey crawls along the medial edge of my index finger, but the other side is still a perfectly healthy peach-yellow.

I vaguely notice I'm making choking noises as I flip the hand over to ensure the black area is the same on both sides. It is.

...This is why it didn't hurt to take off the bandage... I didn't feel it at all, now that I think about it. No wonder. Everything it was hiding is dead as a doornail. All the stabs of pain are right about at that grey border. It's not the severed tips that have been paining me. It's everything else dying around them.

"...So, what are we going to do about it?"

I look back up at Igris when he speaks, but it's not long before my gaze sinks back to what remains of my right hand.

"I think we can wait for a moment," Fronce replies, upset. "How about we allow a minute for this to sink in before we try to jump into things? We have breakfast to eat, anyway."

"Because we have all the time in the world here," Igris grumbles back.

"We have time enough to rest a little!" protests Fronce.

"Do we really?" Igris responds. "Because the last time I checked her wound, there was just the tiniest little band of grey, and now half her hand has already been eaten up! I'd say we might have just enough time to decide what to do and do it, and not a second more!"

"All right, fine," Fronce snaps. "What are your ideas, then?"

"Right now, it doesn't look like we have much of a choice but to cut off her hand."

"No way!" I yelp immediately, clamping my left hand around my wrist. "Cut it off? Are you _crazy_?"

"What else are we going to do?" spits Igris. "Sit around and hope it stops? Oh, and why don't we just call a Pegasus to come and get us out of here while we're waiting?"

"There's no way you're sawing my hand off, you _psycho_!" I snap back.

"Oh, so I'm a psycho for not wanting to sit around eating bloody fruit and singing bloody kumbaya while some bloody disease disintegrates you cell by bloody cell, eh? Well, fine! Excuse me for actually trying to _solve _your bloody problem! Go right ahead and rot away; what do I care?"

"Igris!" Fronce exclaims disgustedly. "What's gotten into you?"

"Ah, excuse me," Igris replies in feigned politeness. "I didn't get much sleep last night because I wanted to make sure the injured could get a little rest...!" He stands up, kicking at a twig. "I don't know why I'm bothering to try to protect you two. You're hopeless, and you don't want help anyway."

"Then why don't you just leave?" I snap.

"I'll tell you once I've figured it out," he growls, starting to walk away just to distance himself a bit. "Have fun putrefying in the meantime."


	52. Waiting

Author's Note: Although they do not appear here, the circumstances surrounding Spain's and Lovi's move out of the jungle crater and Natalya's and Sve's deaths have not changed.

* * *

**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

Ice-cold rain does not feel pleasant pounding on a burn wound.

Actually, nothing about my burn wound feels pleasant. I got some medicine donated, thankfully, but it's doing a lot more in the healing area than the stopping-it-from-hurting area. This'll work out better in the end, I know, but my arm _really_ hurts.

Things aren't looking all that peachy otherwise, either. I have nothing to protect me from the rain other than my jacket's cloth hood and some rather heavy backpacks. I didn't grab any umbrellas or anything because I was a lot more concerned about food, water, and medical supplies.

I don't have to worry about water right now, that's for sure. It's coming down in buckets, and I can't see enough to climb around.

Not that I could, anyway. The mountainside's too slippery for me to do anything but curl up and hope no one finds me. I _had _to lose my shelter right before the rainstorm, didn't I?

I had considered leaving when I came back from killing Taberah. It was a bit obvious someone else had been there when some of the not-so-molten rock had broken up, raising the temperature. And then the whole giant-burnt-cats-sprawled-in-the-middle bit. But I didn't have any other bright ideas for shelter, especially in the middle of the night when other Careers were still out. I could still get to sleep in the stifling heat, and I figured whoever had been there had figured out it's not such a wonderful destination.

Well, that decision ended up being good enough, I guess. No one came back for me, and I still got out before the eruption got too far out of hand.

I squint as more raindrops barrage my eyes and put a hand by my forehead to protect them. Less fortunately, I'll have to take watch, since all of this water pounding on the rocks will keep me from hearing anything sneaking up on me.

Although it would definitely be hard for anyone to sneak up on me here. More likely, they'd try, slip, and skid down and crash into me. In which case, I'll have my weapon ready to dig in.

So, things aren't great right now, but they're not too awfully bad.

We'll just have to see what happens next.

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

It starts raining mid-morning. Luckily, we've kept more than enough parachutes to cover our supplies well, so that's not a problem. As for our own selves getting wet, the three of us end up sheltering under the central tree.

Yes, Igris is here, too. He didn't leave the crater altogether when he was throwing his tantrum. He knows he shouldn't go this alone, even if it means ministering to us. I'm not sure why he's suddenly so convinced China and I are invalids. I only have a few burnt toes. China, well, her foot's still not looking very good, and let's not talk about her hand, but she's not completely bedridden.

Igris just isn't fond of us, I guess. It's understandable. We don't know each other all that well. We're trying to survive somehow, not to be good friends.

I glance over at Igris. He doesn't notice and just keeps staring out at the rain.

"Let's go to the pine crater after this lets up," he says suddenly.

"What?" I respond without thinking.

"The pine crater. We're going there. When the sky clears," he repeats obnoxiously slowly.

"Why do we need to go to the pine crater?" I start with a frown.

"I'm going to gather some needles for tea."

"Tea?" I echo. "You're going to march us clear across the mountain for _tea_?"

Igris responds with a short round of applause. "So it _can _comprehend!"

"Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?" I mutter. "It's not like you're usually a ray of sunshine, but you don't normally feel the need to insult me without basis."

"I need my bloody tea!" he hisses, turning his face away from me and thumping the back of his head against the tree. "If I'm going to keep on losing sleep, in a bloody well stressful situation no less, I can at least attempt to get my tea back."

I glance at the sky through the branches. No donation is going to land well in this storm. We haven't been getting donations recently, anyway. That, and the burn medicine must have been awfully costly. I don't know how much tea costs, but at this point in the Games, it's too much.

"But do you really think we'll be able to travel that far?" I sigh, looking out at the puddles forming around us.

"Well, I sure hope so," he laughs humourlessly. "Otherwise you're stuck with me acting like this." He slumps down a little. "And I'm stuck with this bloody headache."

Not sure how to respond, I just nod and lean back.

**China Wang, District 6**

The ground at my feet is going marshy, so I shift my legs a little. This ends up being less comfortable, but I don't really care. I'm not going to get comfortable when I know my hand is dying cell by cell.

If this doesn't change, then, yes, we really do need to amputate it. But... I-I don't want to get my hand chopped off! I had hard enough of a time trying to cook without it once, and... I mean, my life is more important, obviously, but... If it's still there, I feel like it might get better, that it just needs a nice donation, and everything will work out all right. If it's gone... It's gone. There's no way I'd get it back.

And how would we chop it off, anyway? We don't have any real weapons, just that little metal stick Igris carries around. I think it has some edge to it past the tip, but would the thing snap while we're trying to use it like that? There's no way it was made for sawing things, so why would it be able to? Would we have to-to use sharp rocks or something?

A shiver unrelated to the cold rain goes down my spine.

With that in mind, the whole ordeal sounds even more painful. We'd be sawing through skin and muscle and nerve and _oh_, I feel sick now. I'm really not sure it's worth it. This disease or whatever it is doesn't seem to be hurting me otherwise, and it has a long way to go before it gets to anything vital. And, according to the two cannons that went off a minute ago, we're already in the final eight or so. Things usually speed up around now. There's no reason to go through that if I can win before the disease hits any major organs, right?

I... I think I should be able to make it without trying that. If it starts dying quicker, we'll just h-have to cut it off a little higher. That's... That's not a big deal...

At any rate, we don't need to be hasty about this. My hand's still only about halfway gone.

...I can't believe that's a good thing now...

But, anyway... I have time. I'm not going to rush into things I don't want to do. I'll just... hope for the best.

That's about all I can do.


	53. Argument

Author's Note: I kind of forced my way through some of this chapter to get it up before I leave Sunday. Sorry if it's not the usual quality.

Warning - some swearing.

Although they do not appear here, the circumstances surrounding Rome and Ania's combatting the rockslide have not changed.

* * *

**Lovi Vargas, District 3**

I shuffle my fingers through the ashy ground. I don't have anything better to do. I'm on watch, but I can't see anyone coming for us.

I glance over at Spain. My ally. The only person in these Games I've let myself count on.

And he's a murderer.

What am I supposed to do about that? We're late enough in the Games... I could kill him... It's not like I wouldn't have to eventually. He's fast asleep. He couldn't fight back. Now is the perfect time to do it.

But how? What am I planning on doing? Would I just sit on him and hope he suffocates before he wakes up? Go grab a pointy rock and try to cut his neck open. Nothing seems like it would actually work.

So I... just don't kill him? I... I guess so.. I wouldn't want to murder him, anyway... He's been too nice to me...

But what else am I supposed to do? I can't just stay buddy-buddy with him! He's killed people! By accident! How easy is it going to be for him to kill me on purpose, when the time comes? I can't just be right next to him.

Spain suddenly shifts position next to me, and I jump in alarm. But he doesn't wake up, so I let myself calm down some.

...Should I run away? He can't hurt me if I'm not there. I'd have a great head start. There's plenty of room in the jungle to hide. I don't have any more beef jerky left, but I could easily take some of his—I mean our—tomatoes. I'd survive just fine by myself.

What if he finds me anyway? Well, then I'd just... I'd just have to... I'd figure something out. And if someone else comes, I can... fend them off somehow.

Oh, who am I kidding? If I can't kill Spain while he's asleep, how can I fight anybody else? I can't. I know I can't. I can't do anything here by myself. And who else would ally with me? It's too far in the Games. No one makes new allies this late. No one would have a reason to ally with me, anyway. I'm not strong. I can't do anything useful. I don't know why Spain ever allied with me to begin with. I don't know why he bothers to put up with me.

Why am I trying to give this up? I finally find someone who actually cares about me, and I just want to steal his things and run off. No wonder no one ever likes me.

I... I should just stay. I can't survive on my own.

And I don't think I want to.

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

We only made it as far as the jungle crater yesterday. So today starts off with another headache and another tepid breakfast.

We're all preparing our own breakfasts now. It's not as if we have any proper cooking supplies at this point. We're just splitting up what we have left and making sure no one else takes too much. We get to climbing shortly afterward.

It's not pleasant. We're a bit worn down from the waning food supply, and China can't climb well. Her whole hand is dead now. Any hopes we had of cutting it off at the wrist are long gone. The grey has crept a centimetre into her forearm. But if she honestly thinks she doesn't need to chop anything off, fine. I'm not going to go out of my way to help her if she's so stubborn she won't admit I'm right. Let her rot. I tried, and she rejected. There's nothing more I can do.

Our clambering is devoid of speech. We're breathing a bit too hard, and there's not much of a point to making noise when we have nowhere to run from other tributes.

Finally, late in the morning, we arrive at the pine crater. No sooner have I hauled myself over the wall than I've started scuttling for the nearest tree. The boughs are strangely high, but I manage to bend down the lowest branch and pluck a few handfuls of fresh needles. I vaguely register one of my allies coming over the wall while I pick up a fallen branch and break it up for firewood. I start a fire after an infuriating series of failures, throw some needles into a canteen, and position the future tea over the feeble flames.

Waiting for the water to boil takes long enough to make my eyelid start twitching, and waiting again for it to cool down to a manageable temperature nearly drives me mad. I still end up taking my first sip when the concoction is too hot. I burn my tongue a bit, but at this point I hardly care. I take a few more sips before the tea—which really doesn't taste that pleasant but is tea nonetheless—cools enough, and then just gulp it.

"Is the addict feeling better now?" Fronce starts. I'm not sure when he sat down next to me.

"A bit," I reply, pushing my tongue to the top of my mouth to try and get rid of the burnt taste. Eyeing the green needles next to the fire, I go on, "Where did the supplies end up?"

"You dumped them at the edge of the crater," China says disapprovingly, pointing behind me with her still-yellow hand.

"Ah." I turn around, seize the first parachute I see, and start loading the needles into it.

"So..." Fronce leans against the crater wall. "Ready to go back?"

"Back?" China echoes. "Why do we need to go back? I don't see anything wrong with this crater."

"Yet," Fronce finishes. "We at least know the prairie crater is mostly safe. Here, we have no idea."

"I agree with her," I put in, tying the cloth package closed. "It takes a lot of climbing to get from here to there, so if we don't have immediate danger here, we shouldn't leave."

Fronce looks at me for a second before raising an eyebrow. "Then why are you packing up those leaves?"

"Eh?" I look down at my hands and the little container they hold. "Er... W-well, just in case, ah, something happens to the rest of the needles?" I sound about as convincing as I would sound trying to get them to believe that I'm a tiny, purple elephant.

Fronce makes a low whistling noise. "Exactly how addicted do you have to be to something to go brain-dead without it?" He pauses. "Well, more brain-dead than usual, at least."

"Oh, so _I'm _brain-dead? Who was it that wanted to break the thermostat at work to see how much clothing the female workers would take off in the heat?"

"You did _what_?" China responds, pivoting to glare at Fronce.

"I didn't actually do it! I was just saying that as a joke—!"

"Oh, sure," I interrupt. "And it contributed so much to the joke that you spent half the workday trying to figure out how to get the child restraints off the thing."

"Well, a-at least I recognise feminine beauty!"

"What is _that _supposed to mean?" I respond.

"It means that, unlike you, I express interest in females."

"...Excuse me?" I deadpan.

Fronce shrugs. "All I'm saying is, I've never seen _you_ chasing any girls. Seems to me you might just be hiding in a certain small room—"

"What the bloody hell?" I interject, turning toward Fronce to make it easier to punch him. "If any of us is gay, it's you! You know half the traders there are male! I bet you just wanted _everybody _to start stripping down!"

"Hm, is that so?" Fronce responds, flashing a grin. "I don't believe that's what you were saying a moment ago. It sounds to me like you're changing your story to make yourself look better."

"I didn't change a word of my story! I just brought up another detail!"

"Mmm-hmm, sure you did."

"Oh, I'm sorry; I forgot that, in your book, not being a total pervert means you have no love interest!"

"I am not a total pervert! It's not like I was planning on seeing them stark naked or anything—"

"You're disgusting!" China interjects. Fronce now receives death glares from two sides.

"What? I never actually did anything!"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," I respond. "But I could say you're not doing much of anything now but making sure everyone on the mountain can hear us."

"Oh, please. You're much louder than I am."

"But I'm being loud about _your _faults. So, your fault."

"So it's my fault you don't know how to control your voice."

"I am perfectly capable of controlling my voice!"

"You're shouting again."

"...Shut up."


	54. No Worries

**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

I poke around through my supplies drowsily. I stayed awake last night, not to mention all day because of that rainstorm, so I'm not that perky this morning. Once I down breakfast—which today is a banana and one strip of dried beef—I'm going to take a nap.

I make my way through the banana quickly. My supplies are starting to wane, and I didn't want to risk getting anything soaked, so I didn't get my three meals yesterday. I'm not going to pig out now, though. I'm too tired.

I finish up the strip of beef and curl up uncomfortably. Despite the prarie crater being covered with grass, it's not cushy, and it's still wet. The only tree's bark is too slippery to climb, so I'll have to bide my time in the squelching mess of a grassland. This isn't a nice place to stay.

But no one else is here. The tree isn't that thick, but it's much better shelter than the mountainside or the now-active volcano. I can still get out of here in time if I hear someone approaching.

So I'm pretty much safe. Not comfortable, but safe.

And in the Hunger Games, that's all that matters.

**Spain Carriedo, District 3**

I sit back up, brushing some more ash from my side. Of course, if we stay in this crater, the one that used to have a tree, we're never going to quite get our clothes clean, but I don't mind. It may not have any cover right now, but it's at least more comfortable than sitting on a bunch of jagged rocks.

I guess we can't really stay here. We might still have some food now, but it's not much. Our sponsors have stopped sending us water, so we'll have to find that ourselves.

Well, that last bit isn't much of a problem right now. There's plenty of rainwater in puddles all over the place, and while I can't guarantee they're still clean, we can't drink much of any water here without risk, anyway.

Food, though. Lovi's already decimated her beef jerky, and we only have two tomatoes left.

We could always try the jungle again. Even if it's still sweltering, I could probably find some critter before I get heatstroke.

Well, no time like the present.

"Lovi? Are you awake?" I call quietly—I wouldn't want to give our position away.

Lovi doesn't move for a minute, and then rolls over quickly to face me. "Yep. You ready to give me some breakfast?"

I roll my eyes at her, but she doesn't seem to get the picture.

"More or less. Have to catch it first," I respond, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the jungle, silhouetted by the morning sun behind it.

"Oh." Lovi sits up, sweeping some ash off her clothes with a frown. "Well, let's go ahead, then."

I nod, pushing myself to my feet and leading the way over to the crater wall. I pull myself up easily enough and turn to check on the substantially-shorter Lovi. She isn't making it over very well. Though I know she won't accept it, I offer a hand.

But she lets me help her over.

"Are you feeling all right today, Lovi?" I start, a little confused.

"Er..." She looks to the side a little, expression unreadable, before looking back at me with her usual pout. "Yeah, if you call starving fine."

I smile a little. Yup. Same old Lovi.

"All right. Let's get going, then."

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

Nothing much has happened since we came in this crater. We had a small lunch. Argued about my views on women. Made more fun of Igris and his tea. Uneventful, but I'm just fine with that.

"I'll be right back."

I look over at China, who is getting to her feet—or at least putting weight on her good foot. From the way she's squeezing her knees together, I can tell what she needs to go do.

"And if you're planning on following," she continues, looking at me pointedly, "let's just say, if you try to see anything, I will kill you."

With a sigh of exasperation, I promise, "I won't try anything!" I shake my head a little. "That joke at work was a one-time thing! It's not as if plotting to see more of beautiful women is my number-one hobby!"

"Yes, that's because it's your _only _hobby," Igris responds.

"Hardly!" I just notice China hurrying off. "I do many other things in my spare time. Of course, I don't have nearly as much free time as you, since I actually work for a living. Work hard, too."

Igris snorts. "Anyone who works hard doesn't have enough energy to come up with your little schemes."

"Oh, so I have more than one scheme now?"

"I'm not around all week to see what all you cook up. I can only assume—"

He's cut off by an ear-splitting boom.

"Wha—" I start, but Igris is already getting up.

"That was in the direction she went," he barks, moving ahead carefully. "The tributes aren't given explosives, so it's something in the environment. Watch your step."

Knowing this isn't the right place for talking back, I head after him silently, staying away from anything on the ground that looks even vaguely suspicious.

Before I have much time to realise I hear screaming, Igris exhales shakily and picks up the pace. Unable to see past him, "I breathe, "What is it?"

Without looking back at me, he responds, "Let's just say we don't have to worry about cutting off her arm anymore."

Horror knotting my stomach, I barely notice Igris slowing to a stop. I scamper over to Igris's side and finally get a glimpse of our other ally.

She's slammed into the side of a tree, her mouth open to keep howling. A little scrape decorates one of her tightly-closed eyelids. Her legs are bent uncomfortably but not quite unnaturally back around the side of the trunk. Her left hand's fingers are curled into a tight fist, the rest of the arm resting on her side.

And her right arm is gone.

Right about where the arm muscle near her shoulder forms an indentation in her arm, the flesh ends. A few tendrils of muscle and edges of bone jut out, and a tattered length of skin projects a good bit farther. Further into her shoulder, where a charred stretch of shirt appears, lies a slash from some sharp bit of shrapnel.

I can't keep looking. It's only been a few seconds, but I can't stand a moment more of the horror in front of me.

Just as I'm contemplating how I need to be helping somehow, the sound of metal scraping metal forces me to look back towards the scene.

Igris has drawn his rapier.

"What are you—" This time I'm cut off by a lack of sound. China's ear-numbing screaming dies after an even sharper shriek.

In shock and confused, I only stare as Igris tosses something over his shoulder. It's a nearly invisible thin bundle that I realise must be nerves.

"No reason to let that thing keep dangling to bump into things," he clarifies as he starts to stretch some of China's bloodied skin over the raw flesh.

"Y-Yeah," I breathe, slumping back against a tree. I can't keep watching him work, so I just turn the other way.

After a few dissatisfied growls and some ripping noises, I hear Igris standing back up with a grunt. I dare to look back over.

The remaining section of China's arm is wrapped tightly with a length of torn jumper, which is quickly staining red. She doesn't look damaged anywhere else.

"Well, then," Igris starts, tugging the newly-sleeveless side of his jacket back over his shoulder, "I think we have good reason to leave this crater now."


	55. Get Going

**Rome Gnaeus, District 1**

"Better now?"

I look up at Ania with a charming smile, but her scowl doesn't change.

"Yes, much better," I reply, running a few fingers over the slick surfaces of the wrist brace.

"Great. Let's get back to hunting, then, shall we?" Her voice sounds so ill-tempered she seems sarcastic.

"Certainly."

Ania turns away from me and the Cornucopia to survey the mountainside.

"We'll go around the bottom," she decides. "Come on." She marches off without checking if I'm behind her, and I follow with an amused smile.

One of these days, Ania. One of these days...

My wrist doesn't hurt enough to hinder me in climbing over obstacles. Ania certainly isn't going to let her few bashes slow her down, either. We near the next crater in under half an hour.

As we approach, I wonder if we've been to this crater before. I definitely don't remember one with nothing but soot—but maybe we just never saw anything in it and ignored it.

No one's here now, either. Ania squints at the ash, just in case someone's hiding under there, before announcing the crater is empty. She climbs over the far wall only moments before I do. We continue around the edge of the mountain, but I stope a metre or so away.

"Did you hear that?"

She doesn't reply, but she rests a hand on her sword hilt.

Soon enough, I hear another clack. Preparing to draw my own sword, I wait for the perpetrator to come closer.

Two figures approach, unaware of us. They're too busy chatting with each other to stop until we can clearly make out their faces. Then they notice us.

**Spain Carriedo, District 3**

Lovi and I freeze when we first see Rome and Ania running for us. But it's only a second before Lovi starts pelting away from them.

"Lovi!" I grit my teeth and clamber after her. "Stop running!"

"Are you crazy?" she responds, not looking back at me.

"Listen!" I start, almost tripping over one of the rocks. "We won't be able to outrun them! We won't be able to lose them! We don't have a choice but to fight back, and we can't waste our energy on this!"

"We can't fight them!" Lovi wails. She decides to conserve her breath for running rather than elaborate.

"Too bad—we have to!" I shout, shooting my arm out and grabbing the tail of her jumper. She makes a startled noise as she's jerked back. The change in momentum throws me off, too, and we both tumble backwards until a boulder catches us. Cringing at the tough point jabbing into my back, I force myself back to my feet. Lovi lets me help her up. She's sniffling from the scrapes on her shins and the stress.

"It's okay, Lovi," I breathe. "There are two of them, but there's tow of us. We can do this, all right?"

She doesn't look at all convinced we have a chance, but she nods anyway. I give her a little squeeze on the shoulder before turning back towards the Careers. They're almost upon us.

Really wishing I hadn't lost our only weapon, I cast my gaze to the ground. We don't have any advantages, but I can at least know how not to trip all over the place.

Lovi clings trembling to my arm as the Careers slow their approach. They now have both their swords drawn. I take a deep breath and get into a fighting stance, and then they're here.

I dodge Rome's first slash easily enough, but I don't get a hit on anyone before Ania attacks. I end up with a gash on my leg when I jump back. There's just enough time for me to realise Lovi isn't clinging to me anymore, and then I have to dodge another sword. With a glance back, I see Lovi cowering behind a boulder nearby.

"Lovi!" I've turned around to launch an attack of my own by the time I try to speak to her. "I need you to help me!"

I finally get a punch to connect with Rome's jaw, but Ania's moving sword forces me to retreat a bit more before I can do any more damage. I jump away from two more attacks before I can wonder if Lovi's planning to back me up.

Knowing her, probably not.

Ania gets the tip of her sword in my chest, but I plant a foot in her stomach and shove her away before she can continue. Whipping around, I swing the ball of my foot towards Rome, but he dodges. Rome slashes at my stomach as I throw a punch at his face. He ducks successfully, but I can't avoid a score beneath my ribs. Trying hard not to draw back from the ever-increasing pain, I pivot to kick him in the stomach. He's finally hit, but before I can hit him again, my side is pierced. I jerk back with a shout, barely able to keep myself from stumbling over the rocks.

Almost forgot about Ania. Can't do that. Have to focus on everything here.

With a sharp exhale, I turn and punch Ania in the solar plexus. This knocks the breath out of her, so I allow myself to focus back on Rome. I'm just in time to keep him from cutting deep into my chest, but the wound he scores keeps me from attacking. He slashes again before I can get back into action. I duck under his sword and pop back up with a lopsided uppercut. It connects with his chin, and I stumble back, shaking out my hand and looking for Ania.

But she's not there.

Suspecting she's not hiding behind the rocks, I make sure Rome isn't about to slice me open, and survey the area. It's not hard to spot her bright sheet of blonde hair.

So I see her lunging before I hear Lovi scream.

Time slows down, but I don't speed up. I can only stay frozen here while Ania sends her blade into the fleeing Lovi's neck. Blood slides out along with the sword, but I have to stay motionless for half an eternity before a cannon fires.

Time speeds back up. The pain comes back, I remember I'm in the middle of a fight. Rome's sword catches in my shoulder, but I still execute a left hook.

I end up glancing back where Lovi was. It's empty. I guess I didn't expect anything else.

Another sword hits my back, and I turn to see Ania continuing the slash. I pivot further, jump forward, grab her head, and start bashing it against the rocks. Over and over and over.

Somewhere I watch myself doing this, and I wonder exactly why. It must be because she just murdered Lovi...

My mind is jolted back to my body when Rome's sword hacks into my stomach. I lose my grip on the thrashing Ania when Rome carves down, digging his blade back out only when the wound has reached my hips. With a scream of agony, I collapse forward, stopped only by my face striking a rock when I've fallen to my knees. I clutch the flap of skin and muscle closed as best I can, but the blood still surges, and I can't get back to my feet.

Neither Career sees a need to finish me off. I can't fight them. I'm going to die. That's all they need. They don't need to dull their swords any more on me.

They just walk away.

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

For once I'm glad we don't have many supplies left. This way, I don't have to carry as much weight, since I'm already toting China, who's almost too heavy for me even without one arm. Especially when I'm going over rocks and still not quite able to let my burnt toes touch anything.

I just _had _to tell Igris how sweet he was for helping us out so much, didn't I?

"Hurry up; I see another crater," Igris, way ahead of me, calls.

"Right," I pant sarcastically, trying to pick up the pace a little but not quite able when both arms are occupied. "If I call you callous and uncaring, will you take some of these things back?"

"Nope."

"Thought as much."


	56. Invalids

**Rome Gnaeus, District 1**

"Just know I _am _going to kill you for this."

"I know," I hum, keeping Ania stably in my arms as I keep moving.

She's not happy with having to rely on me—let alone rely on me to carry her—but there's not much else she can do. She's unable to even slowly walk a straight line, so climbing around a mountain is a big no-no. We would have stopped to rest already, but the rocks certainly aren't very comfortable, and we don't have enough bandages with us to patch up the bleeding side of her head.

Poor girl. That certainly can't be very fun for her.

It's not as though I've gotten out unscathed, though. I'm a little spent, and, honestly, I'm kind of afraid to eat—some of my teeth feel dangerously loose, and I might have a bit of a breakdown if anything should happen to my beautiful smile. But I don't seem to have a major concussion. That's always nice.

We don't make great progress. Ania's weight isn't a burden, but it's tricky to navigate over this pile of boulders with my feet alone. That, and I can't move forwards very quickly, or—

"Not so fast, not so fast," Ania whimpers, the apparently-increasing headache—as well as a bit of attraction, I'm sure—making her cling to me a little tighter.

"Sorry," I whisper with a smile, slowing my pace even more.

**Spain Carriedo, District 3**

Am I still alive?

I thought... I would have bled out by now... Not that I have any idea how long it's been. Pain tends to do that.

...I hope my family doesn't have to watch this... They've already had to watch my sister die. But at least she... she got out some last words... I don't think I'm able to speak at this point...

So what... What are my last words, then? I think... Asking Lovi to help me? Is that... is that how I want to be remembered...? Trying to force a girl who can't fight... to throw herself into things... just for my own sake... Why did I think she would help me? She was too terrified off all this... I guess I still don't quite know why she hadn't already fled... Thought she had had a change of heart and would jump in... if I just asked her.

But that didn't happen. She... she may not have been quite the same Lovi, but she hadn't... completely changed. She... just started to put a little more faith in me... I won her over a little... just at the wrong time... If she were still herself, she would have fled in an instant. She wouldn't have hung around.

But she did. She just... just cowered there... wondering if she could bring herself to help... knowing it would never work... wondering why she can't bring herself to abandon me... recognising she had no chance if she didn't run... but liking me just enough to not leave me behind...

She would have run if I just told her to. She could have made it. I was keeping the Careers distracted. She was fairly fast. She could be alive right now... If I had just made things easier for her... If I had just let myself realise I wasn't going to live... If I didn't have to drag her down with me...

So that's how I'll be remembered... Who I was in my last moments... A known murderer not wanting to leave the world without his best friend... There's not much I can... do about that now, though. It hurts too much... I'm spending all my strength keeping my arms over the wound... trying not to let things spill out... I can hardly believe I have enough energy left to breathe and think...

But... Maria wasn't doing any better. She was being beaten... She had broken bones, injured lungs, and she still got her message out... If... If I really try...

Unable to shift my position, I just twist my neck enough for my mouth to not be pressed against the rocks.

"I-I'll... s-see you in a minute, Sis..."

Suddenly sapped of strength, my arms slip, letting the outer flap of my abdomen flop over. More blood starts to accumulate in the puddle beneath me, and I get the unpleasant sensation of some innards starting to slide out.

This is such a horrible way to die... I hope it ends soon... I hope no one else has to go through this... I can't say I deserve something this cruel... But... I am a murderer. I've strangled one girl and foolishly led another to die in front of me...

God... please... please don't let Ania die... I know I'm wrong for trying to serve revenge myself... I don't know why I ever tried it... Just, please, don't let it work... I understand if she has to die here, but, please... don't let it be because of me...

I'm so sorry... to all of you... I never should have hurt you. But there's... there's nothing I can do about it now... Just... forgive me... If any of you girls can hear me now... please forgive me...

It takes a while longer of lying with my entrails over the rocks before my body finally gives up.

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

I'm trying to figure out what's floating metres away in the water when Fronce arrives.

"I could use a little help," he concedes, barely able to lift China up to the top of the crater wall.

"I can see that."

"Then would you mind _providing _a little help?"

"If I must," I exhale, walking back to the edge of the sand and getting China over the wall. Fronce pulls himself over, and I untie some of our supplies from his back.

"Not much land, is there?" Fronce comments, slumping against the stone wall.

"No, but it's enough." I turn back to the water. "Does that look like a container of some sort to you?"

Fronce follows my gaze. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Hm. I'll check it out. If something tries to drown me, don't leave me to die."

"Can I at least laugh at you for a few seconds before I jump in?"

"No, you may not."

"Fine."

Getting my jumper off while I kick my shoes away, I strip off my shirt and sheath, and, more or less just to keep Fronce from any "take it all off" comments, keep my pants on when I delve in. The sand tries to suck at my feet, but the water's calm. Once I'm in deep enough, I can swim easily. I don't see anything coming to attack me by the time I get to the bottle, which I dunk under the surface before I investigate.

"We have disinfectant!" I call before getting the bottle firm in my grasp and swimming back. I set the bottle on the sand before going ahead and wringing my trousers out. I'm halfway back dressed when Fronce picks it up.

"Well, that's awfully convenient."

"Yeah. Looks genuine, though. It may blow up or something when opened, but that's fine since you'll be doing that part."

"Ha, ha." With a not-funny look at me, Fronce unscrews the cap carefully. Nothing much happens, so he sniffs it. "Yeah. Smells like disinfectant."

"Good." Tugging my jacket back on, I scoot over and take the bottle. I know it's impossible to untie the cloth from China's stump of an arm, so I end up just letting the former sleeve absorb some of the disinfectant. It should spread fairly well. The slash in her shoulder is much less difficult to coat.

"Since you're already wet..."

Not knowing where Fronce is going with this, I look over at him suspiciously.

"...I think you might want to wash her off a little."

"What do you mean? There really wasn't that much blood since things got seared shut, and I'm not rinsing her wounds with salt."

"I don't mean her arm."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Remember what she was planning to do when she left?" he hints.

"...Ah." I shuffle over and get my hands under her armpits. "Had to make this difficult _and _awkward for us, didn't you?"

"Oh, like _you _could run off with a full bladder and not lose it when your whole arm gets blown off!"

I just roll my eyes at him and drag China to the water. I just kind of sit her there, as shallowly as possible, before tugging her back out of the sand and dragging her back to the edge.

"Fun stuff, huh?" I sigh, settling against the wall myself.

"Of course."


	57. System Failure

Author's Note: The POV of Greis Karpusi here is the same as it was in the original story.

* * *

**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

"Ah-_choo_!"

I curse silently, sniffling not quite so quietly. Of all places to catch a stupid cold!

I guess I _was _out in the pouring rain without shelter for a few hours, but just getting wet doesn't cause colds, does it?

"Ah-choo!"

Well, one way or the other, I have a cold now. And it really, really sucks to be sneezing this loudly, despite trying to muffle it with my shirtsleeve, when my whole strategy is avoiding detection.

So I'm in a bit of a quandary. I need rest to make this go away, but it's too late in the Games for me to be anything but alert. It would probably take several days to recoup, anyway, and who knows if the Games will even last that long?

So I guess I'll still stay awake for the most part. It's not like I can rest and stay well-hydrated—the only available water anymore is collected on the stones, and there's no way I could curl up and sleep over there.

So, I'll have to keep staying awake. I'm still not quite used to it. I spent most of my days at school as nap time, and, so far, most of the days here. But I've been more awake as the Games have continued, and, even though I need the sleep abruptly more now, I'm going to have to keep it up.

Ugh. I'd better not let myself nod off now. Although it's usually a conscious decision, I've never really had to fight the urge before, so this is going to be tricky.

"Ah-choo!"

And that part definitely doesn't help.

**Ania Jerume, District 1**

My life just sucks right now.

We don't have much food—not to mention I think I'm going to throw up anyway—my hair is caked to the bloody, broken-up side of my head, I can't even walk on my own, so Rome has to ferry me if we go anywhere, and...

...

"Hey, Ania?"

Still lying on my stomach, I roll my eyes around to look over at my ally. "What happened...?"

"Nothing; just seeing if you were okay." His mouth scrunches to one side of his face. "You were kind of staring off into space again."

"Hmph." I shift my legs. "So, what, I can't contemplate anything unless it's because of head injury? I would think you would be more... More..."

"More what?"

"What?" I squint at Rome, who's frowning at me.

"Nothing..." Rome ponders my face a second more before turning to today's rations. He takes a banana that's almost too brown to eat and splits it. Already starting on his half, Rome sets the other in front of me.

"Ah—!" Mid-bite, Rome freezes. His eyes widen, though he's not looking at anything in particular. "A-ah!" Rome's hand flies to his mouth, and, much to his horror, returns with a bloody canine tooth. "A-a-a-ah!" Rome continues with varied panicked sounds and splutters about his "beautiful smile", looking at the tooth and then at me.

"You freaking narcissist..." I mutter, finally starting to reach for my half of the banana. I get down a few bites before looking back up. Rome's fretting about something, although I don't hear any enemies.

"What are you even doing?"

Rome looks at me, a little bewilderment among the panic in his eyes. "I... I guess it is a little extreme to—" He cuts off, hanging his head. "I can feel the empty space when I talk... Nnn..."

I look at him for a minute, and then finally see the little white speck in his hand.

"When did you lose a tooth?"

Not wanting to speak, Rome just gives me a funny look. Figuring I'm not going to get any more information out of him, I just sigh and go back to eating my banana.

Man, my head hurts...

**China Wang, District 6**

"Ssh—I think she's waking up."

I shift one of my legs, and a jolt of pain goes up my back. Nerves suddenly awakened, my shoulder starts to flare up as well, and before I know it, I'm straining not to scream or cry.

"Oi—China?" At the sound of a closer voice, I begrudgingly open my eyes halfway.

"Hm. Welcome to the waking world," Igris says. "You thirsty?"

Senses still bleary from the pain, I figure I probably am and nod.

"All right. Fronce, go fill up a canteen."

I just sort of lie here, watching the boys get stuff ready without really noticing what they're doing. I finally kind of zone back in when Fronce holds out a metal canteen. I reach to take it, but another stab of pain goes through my back, and I can't quite get my hand far enough forwards. With a look of concern, Fronce leans to put the canteen directly in my hand. I get a nice, long draught of water, although not without a few jerks in getting the thing to my lips.

"Does your arm hurt that much?" Fronce murmurs, taking the canteen back when I start to hand it to him.

"Mmm-hmm. Not to mention my back," I mumble, weary enough to close my eyes again. Doing my best to ignore the stabs of pain just from breathing, I barely hear someone shuffling around behind me.

"Your back..." Igris mutters, apparently the one behind me. "...Oh. Well, _that _just makes things better." He growls a little. "There's not much we can do about bloody broken ribs, so you'll just have to tough it out. Good luck." He moves back to my front side. "So, your arm isn't hurting all that much?"

"Never said that." I resist the urge to shift my legs again. "My back just kind of outweighs that whole thing..." I twist my neck a little to see the sleeve wrapped around my arm. My stump of an arm. Yes, it hurts, but the sight of it gives me more eeriness than pain. My arm is gone. Blown to pieces. Never getting it back. Never cooking with it. Never hugging my parents or brother with it. Never writing, never gesturing, never catching, never drawing with it. Never again.

I could get a prosthetic if I win, but that's not the same. I can't feel anything with a prosthetic, can I? Can't wave my hand over a wok to check the temperature. Can't feel someone hold my hand. I know I still have another one, but... This is... just scary. My arm got blown off, and it's gone. I can't look at the bloodied stump of it and the empty space where the rest of it should be. It's just... It's barely real...

"So, uh," I start, fidgeting and instantly regretting it, "how about my shoulder? It feels torn open, but I can't quite, uh, strain my neck to see..." Suddenly aware of just how helpless I sound—and am—I exhale shakily and try to push the thought back down.

"Yeah, there was a little damage," Igris says. "It's wrapped up well enough now. I put some disinfectant on it earlier today, so it should still be all right." Apparently unsure of this now, he reaches forwards and pushes some of the wrappings aside. I feel some of the thin air brush against the wound as Igris freezes in place. Just as I start to wonder if something's wrong, he slowly and evenly replaces the cloth and turns back around.

"It's not infected or anything, right?" I mumble.

"Not infected," he answers, shuffling through the supplies until he finds a canteen and taking a drink. He still seems a little unsettled, but I'm probably imagining things.

I've heard people can start hallucinating when they'e in bad pain... This certainly isn't a tremendous leap from the norm, but how am I supposed to know? It's not like I've had broken ribs and a missing arm before.

—Okay, let's not talk about that... The arm thing still creeps me out...

I notice Igris whispering something in Fronce's ear, and my heart rate goes back up. Fronce responding by biting his lip and glancing at me worriedly doesn't help.

"What's wrong?" I start.

Igris looks at me blankly. "Nothing."

I look to Fronce, but he won't meet my gaze.

"If something's wrong with me, I want to at least know what it is!"

"No, you don't," Fronce mumbles. Igris shoots him a glare for completely breaking the nothing-wrong story. With an angry exhale, Igris finally turns to face me just long enough to say:

"Your wound's turning black."


	58. Death Row

Author's Note: So. I found out that this has 238 reviews. If anyone reviews any other part of this, it's officially the most reviews I've ever gotten. (This is the longest fic I've ever done, but still.) I... I can't even express this right. Just... HSIOWJNDLEWNRJWPLFTUHCJIKLSTG I LOVE YOU.

So thanks to Socbballluvr13, Pceluvmusicart, Axxi, MiekoYagyu, ChaoticXXHearts, Obiwanlivesforever, sotnosen93, Hetalialove101, aruyo, Alice Barden, I Love Octopi, Sora Nadeshiko, and SnuffHPWarriors for reviewing! And thanks to anyone who faved, reviewed, or added my other works and are still reading this and I'll just go on and on, so I should probably just stop now.

But really. THANK YOOOOOOUU~~~

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**Rome Gnaeus, District 1**

Ania doesn't seem to be getting any better, even after a good night's sleep. She just keeps zoning out, and although she has retained her focus for stretches of half a minute, it's not as if that's her only problem, anyway. She can't stand without falling to one side, and she can't even shift her seated position much, or her headache gets worse. I could bring her hunting, but I don't think she's going to be fighting anyone. I'm sure she has the strength to swing her sword, but if she can't keep her own position stable, how is she supposed to hit anybody else? Not to mention she might just forget she's fighting in the middle of a battle.

So, she's not going anywhere. But I don't have to move around that much. We won't get any more donations, and there's not much food to be found here, but... She'll die if I just leave her here alone. Anyone with some sort of training could get her.

But she'd die of starvation if we don't get any more food...

"Hey, Ania?" I'm still not used to that empty space in my mouth, but I can at least bring myself to speak now.

Ania, sitting against the side of the Cornucopia, tilts her head toward me. "What?" she mumbles back.

I scoot in closer to her. "Do you love me?"

She stares me down for a second, and, while I'm not sure if she's blanked out again, I keep smiling at her. Finally, she opens her mouth and responds with, "I have never loved you, and I have no idea why you think that's going to change."

"Are you sure?" I put a well-muscled arm over her shoulders.

"I'm sure," she replies, although her voice slips a little in question.

Just to check, I respond, "You do remember what we're talking about, right?"

"Same thing you're always trying to talk about."

"All right." I reel her in a little closer so I can whisper in her ear.

"...You know, if you loved me back, I'd feel a whole lot worse about killing you."

She immediately stiffens. Hoping she can keep her concentration long enough to consider things, I withdraw my face but keep my arm over her shoulders.

"So..." she finally starts. "You're... threatening me?"

"I'm not threatening you." I can see from her eyes her memory just fell out again. "I'm just letting you know, I really would feel much worse killing you as a girlfriend than an unrequited love." Ania grinds her teeth. "You didn't think I forgot I'd have to kill you eventually, did you, Ania?"

"You're not the most ambitious Career, in case you hadn't noticed," she mutters, trying to shrug my arm off. I respond by flexing a little.

She just scowls. "I'm not saying I love you just in hopes you're not lying. It's not like we don't... both know..." She trails off in confusion.

"Ania?" I say softly. "What were we talking about?"

"We were talking...?" She closes her eyes and puts her head back against the gold metal. "I hate this..." She just sits there quietly for a moment, and, with a sigh, I withdraw my arm.

"I think," she finally starts, keeping her eyes closed but shifting her shoulders, "it's obvious I'm not going to win this." Her eyes flash back open, though she's only glaring out at the sky. "But I can at least—!"

Ania grabs her sword, and I jump back in an alarmed dodge. She wrenches the weapon out of its holster, and before I know what's going on, she slams the blade hard into her wrist and arm. With the slightest slicing motion, she gets the sword back out and casts it away.

Gaping, I shuffle over as she falls to her side struggling.

"I-I," she starts, words sounding strangled, "just have to control s-something in my life—I-I'm sorry I couldn't repay you."

"A-Ania..." I take her hand before I can quite figure out what she needs to pay back.

"...You can still repay me."

I lean over, put my lips to hers, and kiss her until the cannon fires.

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

Breakfast is silent. Igris has had plenty of time to grumble that he should have just hacked off China's hand when she wasn't paying attention. China understandably doesn't feel like talking. And I'm not sure she would be happy with me trying to start a conversation with anyone.

She's not happy about much of anything else, either. She's still in pain, she hasn't gotten any sleep, and on top of it all she has to deal with her sudden loss of all independence. She can bring her breakfast cracker to her mouth and chew it, but only after Igris has decided the rations, and I've put hers into her remaining hand. She can pull herself to a seated position, but it only makes her broken ribs hurt worse, so she stays lying on her stomach.

And that's all she can do. If she ever needs to stand, we'll have to help her up, and probably help her walk since her foot never completely healed. If she wants a drink, we have to go get water, and we have to put the flask directly in her grasp. She can't do anything to stop the pain. She can't even try to impress sponsors to send her medication.

And I don't know how she's dealing with the new discovery. She's going to die. As much as I don't want to accept it, that's what that means. There's no way we can amputate her whole shoulder region without making her bleed to death. And if something's going through her, killing every cell it comes across, the sponsors—who can't afford anything, anyway—can't send her something to stop it.

I don't know what she's thinking. Regret at not taking Igris up on his offer? We think the only way she could have gotten that... _thing_ again was for part of her own infected bone to cause that wound. I don't think there's any way this could happen if she just let him amputate. She still would have gotten the remainder of her arm blown off, but we already know she can survive that. It's just... that stupid cat's slaver...

I have to wonder if I could have done anything. If I could have pulled her into the lava crater just a little faster, would she have come off uninjured? I'm sure the mutt wouldn't have caught up if we didn't take so long getting her over the wall. But could I have done it faster? I don't really think so. I already knew it was life or death, so I should have been doing everything as quickly as possible.

But... that doesn't mean it's not going to bug me...

I wish I could help her. But what am I supposed to do? If Igris's rich sponsors can't afford to send anything for the pain, there's certainly nothing _I_ can do to get enough funds. I could try to support her psychologically, but... It's not like I can understand what she's going through. And then, with what Igris said about me, she'll probably just think I'm trying to come on to her if I say anything.

In the end, I just can't make this any easier for her. Igris isn't going to do anything, either. She might listen to him more than me, but I highly doubt Igris is very skilled in the comforting field. It's not like we're going to run into anyone else; they'd probably try to kill us, even if they could help.

So, there's just... nothing. I'll just have to... keep myself alive... and hope.


	59. Other Factors

Author's Note: Watch out for swearing. Apologies.

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**Greis Karpusi, District 8**

Just finishing the last bit of my supper, I lean back on the prairie tree's branches and watch the sky go black. One cannon fired today. Whatever happened must have been good enough to satiate the crowd.

I only have to wonder what could have happened for a moment before the anthem begins to play. Ania's face appears in the sky.

Hm. I wonder if the last Careers finally thought it time to turn on each other. I'd certainly pin that win to Rome. He scored higher than Ania, and he's built sturdier—I won't have a chance against him unless he's injured or unaware.

Of course, several other things could have happened. There could have been more mutts, although I don't think the Capitol would want to get rid of too many mutants when two giant cats are already gone. But if not much has been happening—which it hasn't—they aren't beyond throwing a few more millions to kill and die.

The Careers probably weren't attacked by another tribute, unless it was a completely unexpected hit-and-run. Since no one left is built to go quite that fast, that's not likely.

Or, it could have always been something poisonous, moving terrain, or some classic killer like that. I can't know for sure unless I get out of here and watch the recap.

And I think I'll be able to extinguish my curiosity until then.

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

Night has fallen, but none of us is going to sleep yet. We don't quite feel like it. Everyone's still a bit shell-shocked after... everything. Exhaustion will win over eventually, but until then, we'll watch the blackness together.

...By "blackness", I mean "night". The other "blackness"... I don't know how far it's gotten. I could tell in the late evening it had begun to crawl up the side of China's neck, but that's all I know. If it makes any progress laterally, big deal—that shoulder's as good as dead. But the other way? The affected wound is on her right, so it won't reach her heart that soon—from the looks of things, it'll probably get to her brain first.

Not that I have any idea how far the black is toward her heart. Quite understandably, China isn't willing to take off her shirt for anyone to see. The only way she could know is to poke around her collarbone until she finds where the feeling stops. But she really doesn't want to know. It's a little easier to ignore now that she can't really see it, and it's more desirable to ignore now that she can't do anything about it.

Well, she had her chance. She turned it down. I did what I could. Her blood is on her own head.

The only thing left for me to do is try to stop caring.

**Rome Gnaeus, District 1**

I stirred from my nap when the anthem started playing, but I haven't set off just yet. The whole point of night hunting is hoping you catch some people asleep, so there's no point in getting out just after sunset.

I want to get moving, though. Sit here too long, and I may not leave. I'm still sort of dumbfounded after today. I mean, I'm still a Career, so I'm used to death, but... She just killed herself... Up and killed herself...

Although I guess she had to do everything suddenly. She might not remember it if she put it off for a single second. But... That's just... Nnn.

I can't get tripped up over this, though. I have my own life to worry about, and I have to do something for the sponsors—especially since my smile's wrecked. Not getting the fangirl vote any more, that's for sure. And, you know, the more I kill, the quicker I get out of here. It's not a good place to hang around.

Especially when your love interest just _killed herself_ here.

Anyway.

I end up just poking around the remaining supplies for a while. There's not much worth taking with me. I'll just keep the rest of the food on me, plus a few bandages and a spare pocket-knife. I don't want to, uh, weigh myself down or anything, so, just that and my sword should do for a while. I won't be coming back here unless I need any of the other junk. I'll just keep roaming until I strike everyone down.

I wonder if anyone's in good enough shape to put up a good fight. Man, I'd love an engaging battle right now...

Head as empty as I like to keep it, I climb over the crater wall and get going.

**China Wang, District 6**

It's late, but I still can't sleep. Igris is a few metres away, breathing deeply with his eyes shut, while Fronce, on watch, is sitting closer to me. He thinks I'm no more awake than Igris. And he's supposed to. While I can't say my breathing's that steady—I'm still in too much pain, not to mention I've started getting bouts of coughing—my eyes are closed, and I'm at least _trying_ to keep my face looking peaceful.

My composure slips up again when another fit of hacking coms on.

"...China?" Fronce's call is so soft I can barely hear it over my easing coughing. I try to regulate my breathing again when I open my eyes.

"Yeah?" I wheeze back, managing just one more cough before I finally quiet back down.

"Are you..." He trails off. "Just... seeing if you were awake."

"I'm awake," I reply needlessly, my words just as hoarse as they were a moment ago. Feeling a little sick, I wipe the snot—or whatever I coughed up—on my hip. The motion seems to have suddenly made breathing a little harder, so I roll back onto my side. This makes my broken ribs hurt more, but I'm back to a normal level of wheezing.

Then I take too deep a breath, and I'm off coughing again. Cursing mentally—I can't do it aloud—I clutch at the sand until the hacking subsides. My breathing's gone back to strenuous, so I try rolling back onto my stomach. It doesn't help at all, so I flip back to my side.

And then my breathing just stops.

Gasping for air but not getting any, I involuntarily start making panicked little noises.

"Ch-China?" From the rise in volume, I can tell Fronce has come closer. I can't reply, though, so he ends up hurrying to my side and kneeling over.

I can't see him. It's too dark, and the few greys provided by moonlight are blotching out from my vision. My skull feels like it's shrinking around my brain, but I can't do anything about it. I can't breathe, and that's all there is to it.

So I'm... Am I going to die here? N-no, not now! I can't die now! I-I... No, no, no, I-I don't want to die! _I don't want to die_...!

Something thumps hard onto the middle of my chest, and after a few compressions, I realise it's Fronce's hands. I finally get in a snatch of air, but it doesn't help me much.

"H-hang on! Just hang on!" He pounds away a little harder. A little more air might be getting in, but I can't quite tell as I'm too occupied with the new surges of pain from my further-splintering back ribs. I don't have enough breath to tell him to stop, and my remaining limbs are too strangely heavy to lift.

The crushing feeling in my head suddenly turns to a fuzzy lightness. It's almost nice...

Oh, shit, _I'm dying_! No, no, no, I can't die here! I don't want to die! No, no, no, Fronce, God, someone, do something! I can't die here! _I-I can't die here!_

I try harder to breathe, to push away the pain of my dead right lung and my rib=pierced left lung, but it doesn't work. Fronce's pushing fades, but it doesn't take much to realise he's still pumping just as hard. I'm just going numb.

No... No, no, no...

Helpless, I fade away.


	60. Logic Override

**Rome Gnaeus, District 1**

A cannon fired last night, but I never found anyone. I didn't hear any fighting, so I don't have a trail to follow. I'll just keep wandering around, I guess. Unless the Gamemakers decide they want me to actually do something and lead me themselves. That'd be convenient.

But nothing hops onto my path. I just keep climbing around the rocks—there seem to be a lot more in the way than usual, but I just don't think I've been around this way before—and, finally, another crater comes into view. I only see a scrubby tree sticking its leaves up, but as I approach, a surrounding sea of scratchy, waving grass appears.

I slow my pace and take a minute to recover from all the clambering. Getting ready for either ambush or attack, I slowly close the remaining distance to the wall, and, with a disappointing sweep of the area, sit on top.

I don't see anyone around. There's no food to keep tributes here, and there's plenty of water elsewhere. I don't think anyone would hide out here—

"Ah-choo!"

Alarmed, I check directly around me, but no one has appeared. I quiet down and focus ahead on that tree. Its leaves aren't that close together, but it is possible...

Sliding off the rocks, I carefully put my feet on the grass and start to move forward. No more motion or sneezing comes from the tree, but I'm not dissuaded. It's not like I have anything better to do, anyway. I come closer, and no creature jumps at me still, but I'm already sweating a little. I keep my grip on my sword hilt and take the few slow steps until I'm right in front of the tree.

Something leaps.

With a shout, I jump back as something sharp slits the front of my neck. Although it's not a conscious decision, I end up counter-striking with my sword, and, just about the same time I recognise the tribute by me, I aim for her neck. Too distracted by the wound I apparently inflicted in her torso, she can't quite dodge all they way. I easily puncture her jugular nonetheless.

Finally able to take a breath, I suddenly seem to remember the cut over my trachea. I put a hand to my neck, and there is some blood, and an accompanying slash. But I can still breathe. I'm definitely not bleeding out, either. Huh. I guess it's just not deep enough.

A cannon booms, and I take the courtesy to carry Greis out a ways, so the hovercraft can get to her.

Man, I hate killing girls. But, she was going to kill me, and it's a little too late to get engaged with them otherwise. I knew I'd have to kill some ladies, and, uh, well... It's not chivalrous by any definition, but I guess it's just my job.

And, on the bright side, there's only two left now, right? I'm not sure who, since I don't know who died last night, and I haven't been keeping track very well. But even if they're both girls, I'll only have to kill two more, eh?

Nnn... Yeah, let's just not worry about that. Have to find them first, anyway.

Wiping my hand off on my trousers, getting a bit of gauze to wrap around my neck, and cleaning the new blood from my sword with a quick swipe, I scan the area one last time and get back to climbing.

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

I'm eating lunch. It's not much, but that's fine. I don't feel like eating much, anyway.

Igris hasn't asked any questions since he woke up this morning. He hasn't said much of anything. He hasn't cried, either.

Unlike me. Forgive me if it sounds unmanly, but it's hard to keep your composure when a terrified girl dies right in front of your eyes despite your best efforts to try and...

Crap, I'm crying again. Silently. I'm too worn out for any more loud choking noises. I never got any sleep after that. I wasn't exactly keeping watch, but...

She was so scared... Staring right up at me, even though I don't think she ever knew... Just the look on her face... Even if she had made it, that would haunt me. But she d-didn't... She didn't make it...

I-if I had just known what I was doing... If I had just... Wh-what was I _doing _in the Training Centre? Did I think I knew how to do CPR? They had a station for it. I could have easily spent time there. I-I... If I just knew what I was doing—! I could have kept her alive! I could have...

But... But then what...? I couldn't have taken her to a hospital. I just would have put her death off just a little bit longer. But... She wanted that so much... She knew she was going to die; she just didn't want it to be that soon! I could have... I could have...

It doesn't matter... She's dead now... Suffocated and dead...

And Igris just sleeps right through it. He's not that heavy a sleeper! He just... He was probably awake. He was probably awake and just lounging around over there so he wouldn't have to lift a finger, so he could just dump everything on me like he always has, so he doesn't have to live after seeing a fellow human being die before his very eyes—!

Oh, oh, what do I mean, "fellow"? If he were human, he'd care! If he were human, he would have tried something to help! But no. He's not human.

He's a tribute.

Just like the Capitol wants them. A heartless killer who doesn't lift a finger when his own ally is dying and his other ally is practically dying for her—! He's just as responsible—no, more responsible—for her death than I am! I at least tried! I at least did something! He just lay there! He just lay there and pretended to be asleep so he didn't have to help! He never wanted to help! He always wanted her to die! He always wanted all of us to die! Sure, I'd like to get out of here alive, but I still care about the human lives around me! He just wanders through the agony and death like it's some playground!

Why am I even allied with him? We don't have any more goods coming in, and I know he'd just _love_ to kill me whenever I stop paying attention! I should just take his sword and run off! Even better, I'll get rid of him altogether! He's a monster! He doesn't _deserve _to live, and...

What... What am I thinking...? Kill him...? For...what...? He hasn't done anything... He really could have been asleep... What... What is wrong with me?

Get me out of here... Someone, get me out of here... I don't care how... I just can't do this anymore... I can't do this...

"...Fronce?"

I'm not sure what I look like right now—angry, or depressed, or anything—so I take a minute before I look up.

Igris nods at the dried strip of beef on my plate. "You should finish that."

I look down at the meat myself but can't quite register it as food. Mumbling to the extent I can barely understand what I'm saying, I tell him I'm not hungry.

"Yes, you are," he responds.

"I'm not."

"Eat it anyway."

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat it or I'll shove it down your throat."

I have to push down the immediate impulse of this being just the kind of crude threat that's completely inappropriate for this situation. Just the kind of thing an uncaring person would...

"I give up," I mutter, forcing the morsel down even though it makes me feel like vomiting.

"Told you you were hungry."

My only response is an non-affirmative mumbling sound.

"Now, take a nap."

I look back up at him unamusedly.

"I don't care if you go unconscious or not. Just get some bloody rest. I don't want you dragging us down if we have to go somewhere or fight someone."

Of course that's his reasoning.

With a sigh, I keep my comments to myself and lie down.


	61. Panic

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

By mid-afternoon, I'm drawing random lines in the sand. I have nothing else to do, but I have to stay alert to some extent. Even if Fronce isn't actually asleep, he's certainly not going to catch sight of anything. He's not in the kind of condition to be cognizant. He's not in the kind of condition to be much of anything. Fine. He had to watch her die. He needs a break.

It's not like many people are left to fight, anyway. Rome might still be alive, but he's the only Career left. No one could gang up on us, that's for sure. I might be able to handle one person on my own.

I-I mean, _obviously_, I'll be able to handle just one person. I'm no pushover. I have a nicely sharpened weapon, and I'm still fairly healthy. I didn't have the misfortune to witness last night's happenings, so... I'm not emotionally compromised or anything. No worries.

I still don't really know what happened. I'm sure China's dead, and Fronce tried to save her. I'm not sure of anything beyond that, and I don't need to be. I certainly don't need any extra emotional strife from this. It's bad enough to wake up and realise a person you've been trying to keep alive is suddenly dead; I don't need any... any more than that.

I complete some sort of abstract table-like image in the sand before sweeping it away. With a sigh, I start to poke a series of unstable depressions.

Then I hear a clacking noise.

I turn towards the source and stop.

The last cat mutt is coming.

"Fronce! Wake up!"

Not actually in dreamland, he opens his eyes blearily and stares at me.

"Remember the cat that didn't burn up? Well, he's here. Be prepared."

Fronce stares at me a moment before suddenly giving a start and sitting up. He looks around frenziedly until he finally locates the approaching mutt. Getting to his feet, he turns back to me, a wild light in his eyes.

"Give me your sword," he starts quickly, holding out his hand.

"What?" I respond, putting a hand over my rapier handle defensively. "No! Are you mad?"

Tactfully not answering the question, he just repeats, "Give me your sword."

"Fronce, you're not in condition to—"

"I don't _care _what condition I'm in!" he snaps, suddenly boiling in anger. "I have to kill that thing myself!"

"I'm perfectly capable of doing it, thank you!"

"No, you're not!" He lunges, grabbing my sword hilt though he can't get it out of my grasp. "I'm the only one that cares enough to avenge her!"

"What—"

"You never even cried for her!" he screams, jerking the sword handle around so much I almost lose my balance. "_You never even cried_...!"

Although at this point he looks like he's going to kill me, I remove my hand and let him have the rapier. With one last maddened look at me, Fronce turns around, and, apparently not wanting to wait for the cat to approach, starts running down the beach. The mutt bounds over the crater wall only a few metres away from my ally.

Hoping he'll at least not lose my only weapon—since I'm not all that sure what else for which I need to hope in this situation—I hang back and watch.

The cat only takes a second to slide in the sand before taking off forwards. Fronce, with a bizarre shriek of rage, rushes to meet it. It swipes out with a gargantuan paw, and Fronce jumps out of the way, making a stab at its face. He only ends up scoring a tiny puncture in its cheek, but the enraged mutt responds by snapping its teeth at him. Luckily, he dodges to the side.

No so luckily, this lets the cat spot me.

Fronce comes at it with another stab, but apparently its neck is too hard to pierce. Unhurt, it starts to run towards me, but Fronce stays at it and stabs at its chest. It yowls in pain and stumbles, giving me enough time to retreat a bit. Fronce keeps jabbing, and the mutt keeps howling, but it gets back to its feet and slashes claws at him. He's scraped in the stomach, but that's far from enough to keep him from continuing his vengeance. Getting in front of the mutt, he jabs at its face but doesn't score much damage. The mutt snaps at him again, and he dodges completely. Irritated, the cat just charges him. Fronce isn't fast enough to avoid a small bit of trampling.

And I'm not fast enough to get out of the way, either.

The cat rams its head straight into me, and as I fall back off, a horrible, cold, sharp, wet fang carves a little line in my abdomen. Hysterically, I start to drag myself away when Fronce jumps back into the battle. He finally gets the rapier point through the cat's eye, and after one high-pitched yowl, it falls dead.

But Fronce isn't finished. Shrieking, he continues to drive the blade through its eye, ripping the organ and the brain behind it into further shreds.

"Fronce! _Fronce_!" I scream, almost sensing the venom taking hold in my wound. "It's dead! It's dead! Stop it! I need the sword!" He doesn't show any sign of listening. "Fronce!"

Not getting the Rapier back and not knowing what else I could do, I stumble over to the crater wall and fumble over the rocks until I find a sufficiently sharp one. I grit my teeth, and, unable to keep my hand from shaking, start to carve out the area around the slice. I can't keep from screaming, but I get a strip of flesh including the superficial cut off me. Throwing the infected skin and tissue over the wall as far as I possibly can, I put the rock down, and, shaking harder, wander toward the supplies.

Looking from a distance, it doesn't take a genius to figure out the mutt trampled some of them, but I hope the disinfectant is untouched until I finally arrive to see it. It's buckled in on itself and leaking.

If that were the only thing wrong, there wouldn't be much of a problem.

But black has crept in through the cracks.

I can't say that's strange; the mutt was drooling the whole time. But it's not good. It's... not, not, not, not, _not _good, at all, and... I-I just need to sit down.

Barely making sure I don't land on any slobber, I collapse to the ground. I can barely rip up some shirt for bandage with shaking, sweating hands, but I manage it well enough and get my wound wrapped.

That's... all I can do now...

Trying to slow down my breathing, I look back over at Fronce and the mutt. The cat just doesn't have an eye anymore, and Fronce finally seems to be calming down a little bit. In another minute, he finally stops forcing the blade through the muttation's empty socket and, after another minute of heavy breathing, steps back from it. His rage fades back to blank confusion, and he drops the sword before slumping back against the crater wall.

"You okay?" I mumble, closing my eyes and putting my head back.

"Yeah?"

I can't quite tell if that was an answer or not.

"Okay..."

**Rome Gnaeus, District 1**

I don't seem to be having any more luck today. I haven't quite gone all the way around the base of the mountain, since I've been searching so carefully.

But that's okay. I have enough food for two more days. I should be able to hunt down at least one of the last two by then. And then maybe the Gamemakers will be nice and chase them towards me.

Haha, Gamemakers, nice. I make myself laugh.

But, hey. They are good to the Careers sometimes. Not so much this year, since we were kind of slacking off, but I think I've changed that. Maybe they'll reward me.

Well, beyond the fame and fortune and ladies and such. But you knew that.

So, I'll just keep looking around and hope I find something. Works for me.


	62. Nowhere to Run

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

The last trace of light for the day is about to fade, so, one last time, I peek at my raw wound.

Still no black. And, knowing that stuff, if it were going to spread, it would have at least shown up by now. Unless by some freak route, it's all inside... N-no, that couldn't happen. I got rid of all traces of it, and if a few organs in my stomach were dead, I'd probably know about it.

So, none of that. None of that. I exhale. No worries. No rotting away for me. No rotting away for Fronce—the claws weren't poisoned, after all. So all good there.

Fronce is doing better now. He ended up wrapping his wounds himself, and, while he's still not healthy after being stepped on by a huge mutt, he's not getting worse. He's sore, but as far as we know, nothing's quite broken. And hopefully his spleen didn't get ruptured or whatever else could happen. He got out all right, and so far, I'm not bad, either.

He'll be taking first watch tonight. He's pretty worn down from fighting, but he's already recovered some. He'll probably end up getting more rest if he stays up and sleeps in, anyway.

If he does sleep. He obviously needs it, but who knows if his mind will let him? Nothing much I can do. I'm not that hot in the consoling area, and I'm not completely sure if he's done hating me, anyway.

So, I'll just get some rest myself. Hopefully this trough in my torso won't sting quite so much afterwards.

We'll just have to see how things play out. There's nothing else we can do.

**Fronce Foybon, District 6**

The day after the mutt attack has been empty so far. Now, Igris is once again making threats so I'll eat my supper. Same as yesterday.

Well, a little less that yesterday. The mutt ended up drooling on some of our food, so we won't be eating any more crackers. Just beef strips and dried fruit pieces. There's not much left, and I'm not sure why we're eating a bit for every meal when neither of us is very hungry.

Although I can't figure out why Igris's appetite has disappeared. He wasn't this way after he found out wh-what had happened, so... I don't know. I don't know anything about him. How he didn't even _cry_... I know he's not an emotional person, but... How could he possibly be dead enough inside not to shed a tear for her? He tried to keep her alive after the explosion, so he couldn't have not cared in the first place. I just... I don't understand him.

And I can't really blame him if I don't understand him. But I—I have to blame _someone _for China's death or I'll completely lose it. So, it's all the cat's fault. All the cat's fault, and he's dead, and his last companion is dead. So it's all done and avenged and things... But why don't I feel any better about it? I couldn't have killed the cat that hurt her with my own hands, so I did the best I could.

I don't know. Just... I don't think I'm ever going to feel better about this. How could I...? She died right in front of me... Even when I was trying...

No... I-I'm not getting back into this...

Taking a deep breath, I look back over at Igris. He's nibbling at the last bit of apricot in his right hand. His left hand and forearm are pressed over his covered wound.

I shift my feet around a little before indistinctly asking if he's feeling all right.

"Yeah..." He finally gets the last bit of fruit in his mouth. "Just tired." He wipes his hand on his jeans. "But that's no excuse. Everyone's tired." With an exhale, he gets to his feet and leans back against the crater wall. "Just have to... keep going." He closes his eyes, and for a second I think he's fallen asleep. But his apparently heavy eyelids drag open again, and he crosses his arms uncomfortably. He only stays that way for a moment before grumbling under his breath and zipping his jacket up.

"Are you cold?" I start, puzzled as I'm not even wearing my jumper.

"Yeah." Apparently more uncomfortable, he kicks at the sand before sitting back down. He only stays there for a second before flipping the bottom of his jacket and shirt up and checking back under his bandage. With a sharp, short exhale, he lets go and stretches his clothes back over.

"What's wrong?"

Igris thunks his head back against the wall. "It _had _to drool on the bloody disinfectant."

"It's infected?" I gasp, shuffling a little closer to him.

"Well, don't come _towards_ me!" he snaps. "You have open wounds, too! Idiot!" With a growling sigh, he leans forward, resting his head and forearms on his knees. A lone, strong shiver jolts down his back.

I slowly crab-walk back a few paces.

"Y-you're not going to die, are you?" I ask stupidly.

Igris just turns his head to glare at me before putting his forehead back on his arms.

With a shaky exhale, I curl up, wrapping my arms around my knees.

Igris...? Igris... could die...? N-no. That's not going to happen. Someone already died in front of me. There's—There's no way he... No. He's Igris. He doesn't... No. No.

I mean, we are in the Hunger Games, and more of us have to die, but... No. N-not Igris. He can't die. He'll have to for me to live, but... Ohhh! This just can't happen! I've already lost one of them; I can't—I can't...

Th-there's no way I can watch him die. No way. But I can't do anything else. I can't cleanse the disinfectant. I can't get more. I can't even try to wipe some random plants on it or I'll get infected myself. But I can't... I can't just watch...

I look over at Igris, who hasn't moved.

"I-Igris?"

He doesn't respond, but, before I rush over, I catch his back rising and falling. Nearly shaking with relief, I turn back toward the shore, the waters lit up by the setting false sun.

No, there's no way I can watch him die. But... how could I not...?

Before I know what I'm thinking, I get to my feet.

...I can't watch him die if I'm not near him.

My gaze goes back to Igris, who's undoubtedly sound asleep.

So, I just... abandon him? That's... That's not...

But I can't watch him die! I can't watch another person die, and be helpless the whole time, only watching as the life fades, just fades away—I can't, I can't, I can't! I-I... I can't do this again. I can't do this again. I just... I have to leave. I have to. I can't watch him die. It's the only way.

Gulping though my throat is dry, I tiptoe towards the crater wall never taking my eyes off him. He doesn't budge even when the Capitol seal appearing overhead lights up the water and his sword hilt.

My eyes linger on the hilt.

...I need that more than him. He's going to die. I'm not. It's not that close to his wound, so I'm not quite endangering myself. Okay. Okay.

I step over and slip the rapier out of his scabbard. While I'm at it, I swipe the last bowlful of food.

So I'm just robbing him. Taking what isn't in the least way mine, just in case I need it... But he doesn't need it. He's going to die, anyway. What's it matter if... if...

I don't know. I don't what I'm doing anymore. I just want out of here. I just have to get out of here. I have to get out of here, and I can't watch him die. That's all I know and all I want.

Breathing hard, I pull myself over the crater wall and look back one last time at at my frail friend. Unswayed, I bolt.


	63. Never Know

Author's Note: Well, everyone, this is the last chapter of this fic. Thanks so much for reading, and thanks even more to those who have reviewed! I couldn't keep writing without your support. :)

* * *

**Igris Kirkland, District 5**

I start to sense sunlight on the other side of my eyelids. Still half-asleep and not feeling very pleasant, I unclose my eyes. It takes a minute of staring at the water's sparkles before I figure out where I am.

Why wasn't I woken up for watch? It... _is _morning, right? I glance up at the sky, which is light blue and cloudless.

"...Fronce?" I slowly sweep the area without finding my ally anywhere. A surge of dread shoots through me until I remember Fronce was still healthy the last time I saw him.

So... Did he run off to find more food or something? He wouldn't be stupid enough to leave without telling me normally, but... He hasn't been in much of his right mind lately. I don't know what he's doing any more than he does. Guess I'll just have to wait it out until he comes back.

Feeling dreadfully cold again and wishing my jacket wasn't missing a sleeve, I pull my right arm into the body of my jumper. It takes a minute of squirming, but I end up getting my arm under the cloth, despite my fingers going a bit too far and slipping into my scabbard.

"Wait..."

I take my fingertips back out and stare at the empty sheath. After a quick check of the nearby sand to make sure it didn't somehow slide out and get buried, I go back to staring.

Someone... Someone took my rapier. One of the tributes would have just killed me.

And I have no idea where the other one is.

Pulse rising, I check the supply pile. Bottle of disinfectant, some parachutes, an empty bowl. No sign of the food-filled one.

I scream a long string of Fronce-aimed insults that doesn't end up making all that much sense but sure uses a lot of swear words.

So I'm not off bad enough for him? He has to get rid of my only chances at getting through this alive, too? Sure, scraping open a furrow in my stomach with an unclean rock makes way for an quick, rampant infection, and, sure, I c-can't do anything to cure it, and, sure, I p-probably a-am going to die, but... I-I don't know... He could have... a-at least asked or something...

Feeling colder, I shift back into a little ball.

So, the only person I've ever come close to calling my friend robbed me blind, deserted me, and left me to die. What a warm, fuzzy feeling...

Well... Guess I don't have to wonder what China felt like anymore. Now I'm the one that has to sit and wait for death. I can't believe I'm going to die... I'm going to bloody die...

I catch my eyes getting watery and make myself stop it. I'm not going to get caught crying in front of... Not Fronce, who's gone. Not the cameras, which won't be watching me sit around. I just... You know what? Screw it all. There's no reason to be tough any more. Nobody's left to make fun of me, and nobody's left to care.

So I finally bury my face and my knees and cry. For me, for China, for the broken being that used to be Fronce, for whatever calls for tears. I don't care if the cameras are on me. I'm going to die. I don't need anyone's respect.

I hear something flapping and look up. A parachute just in front of me is billowing. Not daring to hope—it's probably just one I kept that blew over—I slowly reach with my free arm and pick up the cloth.

Underneath is my Beatles CD, the crack foolishly but meticulously wrapped with clear tape.

A short laugh gets out between my sniffles, and I clutch the CD to my chest. My family had to have sent this. Are they watching...? Of course they are... I bet they'd give anything to be next to me right now... They... They love me, after all...

I curl back up, still weeping, still dying, but not quite so hopeless.

**Rome Gnaeus, District 1**

I've finally approached another crater. The tribute inside hasn't realised I'm here. He's just doubled over, sniffling quietly.

Well, I guess I shouldn't expect a good battle this late, especially when I'm the only Career left. At least this should be easy.

I climb onto the wall silently and slide over onto the sand. The other tribute stirs—apparently I wasn't quite as quiet as I thought—and looks over at me. He doesn't seem particularly surprised or scared, even though he has no weapon and certainly isn't a heavyweight boxer.

Not sure what to expect, I start walking over, sword drawn. Igris looks back at me without moving for a moment. He then unravels himself and pulls an arm out through a hole in his jumper. He doesn't move further until I'm almost right in front of him. Then he reaches behind him and grabs the top of a collapsed plastic bottle.

Before he does anything with it, I slash at his neck. He makes a pained sound and almost collapses. I take the next second to rinse off some blood in the lapping waves.

Something suddenly splashes on my neck.

I jump back in surprise as Igris drops the less-full bottle and falls face-first. About the time his cannon fires, I recognise the sting of disinfectant on my wound.

Well... Why would he do that...? There's not much of a point to killing me if he was going to die, anyway. And was he really so delusional he thought a splash of disinfectant would hurt? Erm... Maybe he just wanted to do something nice for me? I... don't know. Dying people do strange things sometimes, I guess. Hm.

With a dismissive shrug, I look around to make sure the other tribute isn't nearby. No one's here, so I set off again.

* * *

I've checked two more craters by sunset, but the other tribute is still beyond sight. I hope he's not moving around, too. It'd be even harder to track him down then. And I'm almost out of food.

I wonder if the Gamemakers will send him towards me. I think I've proven myself by now. Of course, he won't stand a chance against me, so maybe they'd rather keep the suspense up a bit longer.

Either way, I'm all right. I can go a day without food and still fight. I'm getting tired pretty quickly with all this climbing, but I still have my muscles. We're all right.

I watch the sun set for a minute before I wonder about my neck wound. It hasn't been hurting any more, so it's definitely not infected. But should I change the gauze out, anyway? I have plenty more, and if the disinfectant killed anything already there, it might still be lingering on the bandage.

Eh, might as well. Don't have anything better to do.

I untie the knot at the back of my neck and gently take the gauze off my sweaty skin until I get to the cut in the front. It's stuck a bit more, as I expected, so I have to pull my skin back a little to peel any more bandage off. The wound apparently gets unstuck, and the gauze comes off.

There's just enough time to see some odd, black crumbles on the bandage before the sun disappears.

What was _that_?

Befuddled, I put my fingers on the wound.

The skin crumbles into my windpipe at my touch.

With a confused cough, I feel some breath escaping and try to clamp my hand over the hole. The gap only widens in response, and I start to feel dizzy.

Without the slightest clue of what's happening, I asphyxiate.

* * *

Mini-Epilogue: _"So, I hear you're very interested in the ladies, eh, Fronce? HAHAHAHAHA..."_

* * *

_And that is what would have happened if China didn't eat the sauce._


End file.
